


Unmake the Bed

by deirdre_c



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - J2, Bottom Jared, Butt Plugs, Housekeeper Jared, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Prince Jensen, Top Jensen, luxury island paradise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-31
Updated: 2012-07-31
Packaged: 2017-11-11 04:01:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 40,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/474285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deirdre_c/pseuds/deirdre_c
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared has worked as part of the housekeeping staff at an elite Caribbean resort on Paradise Cay every summer all through college, crushing from afar on its most notorious celebrity guest: Jensen Ackles, the Playboy Prince of Espian. This year, he’s been assigned to attend to Jensen’s rooms, where he catches Jensen’s eye, and possibly his heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unmake the Bed

~~~~~

  


“Well, well. Looks like you’ve been benchpressing cows in the off-season, Texas!”

Jared barely had time to pull on his black uniform shirt as Ms. Dinwiddie breezed into the changing room. No chance to button it, so Jared just held it closed as best he could, feeling blood rush to his cheeks.

“Not really, ma’am,” he replied. Jared hadn’t had much time or energy to hit the gym this past school year. His part-time job unloading trucks at Home Depot at night had given him more than enough of a workout, his other work as crew with a lawn service on weekends was just icing on the proverbial cake. They weren’t at glamorous locales like this one, but they helped pay the bills. 

Ms. Dinwiddie, his employer and the owner of Paradiso resort, circled around him as if sizing up a purchase, then stepped in and swiftly pulled his shirt out of his grip, sweeping it open like a pair of curtains. “Damn, honey. You sure you don’t want to be assigned to the pool or one of the bars this season? This body combined with that shy, All-American-boy way of yours would earn you some unbelievable tips.”

As if on cue, he ducked his head in embarrassment. Ms. Dinwiddie might think all his blushing was cute, but Jared hated it. And as much as he might like the idea of spending the summer working poolside with Gen and some of his other friends, he knew he’d suffer under the constant attention and need to charm the resort’s guests. Charm was not his forte.

“No, thank you, ma’am. I’m happy in Housekeeping again.”

“Alright, then. Let me know if you change your mind. I hate to see you hidin’ that light under a bushel. And it’s ‘Traci,’ not ‘ma’am,’ Texas. Why do you always make me correct you?” Ms. Dinwiddie winked at him and he couldn’t help smiling back. She’d always looked out for him, since his first time here on her island two summers ago. “Now that you’re sized, grab yourself four sets of regular work shirts and shorts, some shoes and all the rest. I’ll see you at the orientation in a few minutes.”

~~~~~

Jared finished in the storeroom at the back of the reception center and stepped outside, duffle in hand. Warm sun promptly banished the feel of air conditioning and a familiar salty-sweet breeze tumbled his hair around. The afternoon light glinted from every surface: from shards of mica in the paving stones, off glossy green leaves in the lush, perfect landscaping, from aquamarine private pools that dotted the property, and beyond all the sparkling expanse of the Caribbean, shading green over the reef that skirted the tiny island’s bay and stretching bluer than blue to the horizon.

Jared shook himself and hurried across the property, jogging up the steep path toward the employee dorms just beyond the ridge overlooking the resort proper. He knew he was one of the last of the staff to arrive and didn’t want to be late for their initial meeting. 

He’d been assigned the same room as last year, and when he opened the door, he was relieved to see James’s and Dulé’s familiar bags on the bunks against the far wall. He didn’t recognize the duffle on the bed above his, but he was grateful whoever it was had left him the bottom bunk.

He made his way back to the beachfront, to the dining room of Eden, the resort’s main restaurant and entertainment hub, its high ceilings swathed with tiny lights sewn into billowing drapes, its floors checkered with square-meter blocks of glass that revealed the reef below, schools of fish darting and skirting underfoot in ever-changing combinations. The room was currently packed with all 200-some members of the resort staff, chairs all full, so Jared slipped in to lean against the back wall. He was just in time to catch the beginning of Ms. Dinwiddie’s speech. 

“Welcome back to Paradise Cay, everyone,” she said, gazing around the room with a delighted smile, “or simply welcome to the new staffers who’ve joined us. All you newbies, stand up and give us a wave!” Jared scanned the nervous faces of the couple dozen guys and girls slowly rising to their feet, almost all of them younger than him. Ms. Dinwiddie’s policy of forcing anyone not in management to “retire” at age 26 meant the resort staff stayed young and pretty, but it also made for a lot of turnover. 

Fortunately, Jared also recognized many familiar faces in the crowd: Sandy and Alexis right up front by Tom and Mike, Alona, Aldis and Katie, and there was Chad, slouched down like he might be sleeping in his chair. Then he spotted Genevieve sitting next to Julie, and gave her a little wave. She must have been watching for him, because her face lit up and she slipped out of her seat, crouching low and weaving her way through the maze of bodies to stand next to him. 

“Now I can’t see, you jerk,” she whispered, surging futilely up on tiptoe.

He smiled down at her. “You didn’t have to come back here until after.”

“I couldn’t wait,” she said, taking his hand and squeezing it. “It’s good to see you.”

“I hope the past ten months have treated you all well,” Ms. Dinwiddie was saying, “but now it’s time to begin the very best time of the year.”

From what Jared understood, his employer had sold her booming dot-com company at exactly the right time and become a multi-millionaire before age 40, running this resort on the kind of lark only obscenely wealthy people indulged. She owned the whole island itself—all 1,000 acres of it—as well as the resort properties, but she only bothered to open the place to guests for one month out of the year. It was invitation-only, and the waiting list spanned the globe.

“As usual, we’ll have a full house all month, with many of our regular guests and some really interesting new ones joining us.”

Gen poked him and whispered, “I hope by ‘interesting,’ she doesn’t mean ‘crazy.’” 

“That’s probably too much to ask,” Jared murmured in reply. The kind of people who could afford to come to Paradiso were used to getting what they wanted, when they wanted it. 

“—to remember,” Ms. Dinwiddie was continuing, “that staff curfew is at midnight once the guests arrive on the 1st, unless you are working a late shift here at Eden or for the overnight concierge. I also want to remind you of our strict policy against fraternizing with the guests.” She glanced around solemnly, then smirked. “That’s legal-speak for fucking them, in case anyone is confused. When I say you should be ‘accommodating’ or to ‘bend over backward’ to meet a guest’s needs, let’s be clear, this does not involve literal bending over.” 

Everyone chuckled, and Gen waggled her eyebrows at Jared in amusement. “There’s the answer to your problem right there.”

“As if,” Jared replied.

Some guy next to her shushed them, so they settled in to listen to familiar instructions regarding meal and cleaning shifts in the staff dorms, when work schedules would be distributed, and the rest of Ms. Dinwiddie’s standard orientation speech. 

Afterward, Jared and Gen found a cluster of their old friends in the crowd and they all headed back to the small huddle of staff dorms, arguing the entire way about whether Jared would go out with them for First Night. 

“Do we have to do this every year, man? Admit it, you always say you don’t want to hang, but then when you come, you have fun,” Dulé said.

Chad chimed in, “I brought some excellent weed!” even though he knew Jared didn’t smoke.

“C’mon, Jared,” Katie said. “What are you going to do instead, sit in your room and jerk off?”

“I won’t go if you don’t,” Gen threatened, and even though Jared was pretty sure she wouldn’t follow through, he allowed himself to be blackmailed into it.

The staff’s informal nightly get-togethers would continue throughout the resort’s entire season, but the first week, before the guests showed up, was a chance for all of them to get to know each other, before different work and sleep shifts and assignments to different parts of the resort separated them. 

Their parties were held in the common area between the dorms: a few little pavilions, tables and chairs, and an open kitchen arranged in a semi-circle around a pool. It wasn’t a fancy, pristine infinity pool like the one in the guest area, but it was big and had a deep end for diving—or throwing people into—and as long as they kept Chace from puking in it again this year, it was a pretty awesome place to hang out.

Yesterday Jared had thrown a few belongings in a duffle and showed up today on to the island to work, but clearly many of his fellow employees had made much more elaborate preparations. By the time Jared walked into the Commons, Chad had set up a sound system with deceptively tiny speakers that pumped out a bass line Jared could feel in the soles of his feet. People were loading down the make-shift bar with six-packs and bottles and even plastic gallon jugs of questionable liquor that would never be found in the Paradiso stockroom. Mike grabbed one container at random and used it to fill up the holes he’d cut in the top of a watermelon, while Nicki and some new girl busily cut a pile of limes for body shots, taking turns at swigs of tequila straight from the bottle in between fruit. At least half the guys there went shirtless, the girls all in bikini tops—not the resort-issue ones either, but tinier, hardly there at all, many of which would end up by the next morning in a tangle at the bottom of the lost-and-found box by the bathrooms.

As was his habit at these things, Jared grabbed a beer and drifted over to stake a claim on an out-of-the-way lounge chair near a corner. First Night tended to get rowdy quickly. He liked to watch—well, not like that, glancing over at Aldis and Beth already entwined in the deep end of the pool and thinking they should probably take it back to the dorms already—but he liked to watch his friends laugh and dance around, flirting with old flames and scoping out the fresh meat among the new hires.

Genevieve bopped over, hot-pink mixed drink in hand, and jumped onto the chair to curl in his lap. “So, for real, what've you been up to? How was junior year? Did you manage to finally get laid while you were off the island?”

He shrugged, then tucked her closer, propping his chin on her head and taking a swig from his bottle. Of course that would be Gen's first line of questioning. “Nope. Not yet.” 

They’d been fast friends since the day they met last summer—Gen’s first on the island—and ever since she’d found out he was both gay and, well, no beating around the bush about it, a virgin, Gen had made it her mission to push him into bed with any available guy.

“Jared, I am seriously disappointed in the boys at UT. They've gotta be blind not to try getting into your pants. What a bunch of losers.” 

Jared just rolled his eyes, even though he knew she couldn’t see him. It was both sweet and annoying how obsessed she still was with this. It wasn’t as if he enjoyed the whole celibacy thing himself, random hook ups just… weren’t really working for him. Jared’s mind tried to flashback to freshman year, but he clamped down on the memories, looking out across the Commons toward the ocean. A half-moon floated over the horizon, its reflection a tapering trail across the water. “What about you, leave a string of broken hearts behind up at George Washington?” 

“No hearts broken, so far. But, you know, I do get laid as often as I like, thank you very much.” 

“Looks to me that you’ll have a lot to like this summer,” he said, nodding toward a cluster of new guys staring around wide-eyed, all broad-chested and tan, exactly Gen’s type. “Once they realize that the way you crawl all over me like a pet spider-monkey is just a fake-out.”

She nailed him in the gut with her sharp little elbow. “You love it and you know it.” Then she jerked her chin over toward the counter serving at the bar, where a cute, dark-haired guy was holding court, joking and tossing bottles in the air and clowning for a group of admirers. “Check it out. Zach’s here again this year.”

“Yeah. I saw.” Jared had crushed on Zach Levi from afar all last year, but had never had the guts to approach him. Zach was quite a player, despite his ‘nerd’ persona. Jared couldn’t imagine a guy like him, one who hooked up with a different girl or guy every weekend, being interested in someone like Jared.

“So what do you think, babe?” Gen asked, taking another long swallow from her cup. “Will this be your summer?”

“Maybe,” Jared replied, hoping, but not wanting to promise anything to himself. “You never know.”

~~~~~

  


[ ](http://s37.photobucket.com/albums/e57/deirdre_c/unmakethebed/?action=view&current=June_22.png)

  


The next morning he startled awake at the touch of a hand on his calf in the murky pre-morning grayness. Adrenaline dumped into his bloodstream and he instinctively kicked out, scrambling away from the two shadowy figures that loomed at the foot of his bed.

“Jesus. Sorry, man,” a voice whispered low. “Just waking you up for the run.”

The figure was Tom and, Jared peered through the dim, the other was Justin. He swallowed to force his heart down out of the back of his throat. “No. It’s fine. Gimme a sec.” He scrubbed both hands over his face. “What time is it?”

“6:15. Same as always.”

Tom was an unapologetic fitness nut and he led a daily workout for staff members at the crack of dawn each day. The lure of an extra hour of sleep called to Jared, but he knew from experience he’d feel better if he went ahead and did a few miles. Besides, he’d been running with Tom for two summers now, and this was Tom’s last year on the island before he aged out. Jared couldn’t quit on him now.

“Alright, let me find my shoes.” 

A few minutes later he joined the others on the beach, only nine of them, but the small number didn’t surprise Jared after the long night of partying. They started off to the north at a brisk warm-up jog, and he deliberately fell to the back of the pack so no one was behind him. Adrianne slowed to match him, even though she ran track on scholarship at Ohio State and could beat all of them—guys and girls—with one foot tied behind her back. She bumped him companionably with her shoulder, but didn’t say anything, both of them focused on the quiet crunch of paper-thin shells as their footfalls beat a rhythm in the wet sand.

To their right, the rising sun was shielded by billows of clouds piled high on the horizon, a few errant rays breaking through and streaking them with mauve and peach and hot pink, more like club drugs than colors. By noontime Jared knew the sky would be a blue so bright it was almost silver and then transform to roiling burgundy and indigo at sunset. He sucked in a deep breath full of sea-salt and fish and yellow jasmine and felt in his bones there was no place on earth more worthy of its name.

~~~~~

By eight a.m. Sera had the Housekeeping staff gathered in the living room of one of the larger outlying villas, where the space was big enough for all twenty-two of them, unlike in the suites inside the main building.

“We’ve got five new people on Housekeeping staff, and I’m going to team each of you up with a veteran for the first few days of training. Felicia, I’ve got you with Danneel.” Dani waved to identify herself and the two redheads moved to stand together. “Osric, you’re with Jared.” 

While Sera paired up the others, Jared smiled and nodded hello. The kid barely came up to Jared’s shoulder and hardly looked eighteen, but he seemed really nice, didn’t stop chattering until Sera called them back to order. 

“I’m handing out binders that contain detailed checklists of your daily duties in the suites or, for those of you assigned out here, the villas. They are broken down by room and task area, including lists of supplies you’ll need and standards of excellence. This week we’ll be memorizing and practicing each set of tasks,” Sera said, turning at the sound of a heavy sigh, “even if you’ve been on staff for years, _Leighton_.” Set down complete, she continued, “On Sunday, we’ll have a final review, and once again this year the staff member who demonstrates the highest level of competence across the range of Housekeeping duties will be awarded a $1,000 bonus.”

“What’s the point?” Danneel piped up. “Jared won last year and the year before that. None of the rest of us poor saps stands a chance.” Jared turned and threw her a look; she grabbed it and tossed a kiss back. 

“Give it your best shot,” Sera said, “I imagine a cool thousand is a pretty strong motivation. Right, Jared?”

Jared simply shrugged, slouching a little, hoping the notice would shift from him. It wasn’t like he was the best member of the housekeeping staff or anything. Only that the bonus money went back home, straight into Aunt Jo’s bank account. Damn straight he was going to win again this year.

~~~~~

  


[ ](http://s37.photobucket.com/albums/e57/deirdre_c/unmakethebed/?action=view&current=June_25.png)

  


Most of their days were spent perfecting Sera’s housekeeping tasks, but afternoons had additional lessons, too. Etiquette, basic valet skills, formal dining service, and even floral arrangement and first aid. They joined the laundry service staff for a two-hour seminar on ironing and wardrobe care. Jared knew how to light a cigar and he knew how to unclog a toilet.

That afternoon they were gathered in Eden’s kitchen, taking notes as their head chef, JD Morgan, rattled off a dizzying array of the more unusual ingredients he’d be using in the guests’ meals, should they ask the staff about them. “Plantains,” he barked, “sofrito, sazón, pigeon peas, conch, guava.” As he named each, he stabbed a finger at a different bowl of chopped or ground something lined up before him on the counter, then described the ways they might be used. Finally he dismissed them. “You’ll come back this evening after dinner. Seven sharp,” he ordered. “We’ll be covering wine pairings then. If the guest in one of your rooms orders you to open up a four hundred dollar bottle of wine, you’d better be damn sure it’s going to taste good.” 

As they made their way out the door, Osric moaned, “How am I supposed to remember all of this? Gourmet cuisine? And fine wine? I’ve never eaten this kind of fancy stuff. I don’t even watch the Food Channel! This is so completely out of my league.”

“Don’t worry,” Jared assured him. “Believe me, the only wine I’d ever seen before coming to Paradiso was fortified, but I caught on. You will too.” 

Sandy ran up between them on the path, breathing heavily. “I only have a minute, J,” she said, “but guess who I heard is coming to stay mid-month? Hugh Jackman and his wife. How cool is that?”

“Cool?” Jared replied uncertainly. Seemed like everyone on staff was more familiar with the parade of celebrities who stayed there than he was.

She swatted him on the arm. “Yes, cool. I’m sorry, I forgot you only care about His Royal Highness.”

“Who’s that?” Osric asked. 

“Prince Jensen comes every summer,” Sandy said, and Osric looked suitably stunned and impressed. “Only this year I haven’t heard anything about his reservation. He hasn’t been seen out in public at all since his mom died suddenly last year sometime.”

“November,” Jared supplied. “It was in November.”

“Yeah, well,” she looked at him pityingly. “I’ll let you know if I hear any news on that front.”

“Thanks,” Jared called as she ran off.

On an island brimming with celebrities, Prince Jensen of Espian was the resort’s glittering jewel. He was only a few years older than Jared, but he had been famous his entire life, scion of a tiny European nation’s royal house. He’d leapt even more conspicuously into the public eye a few years prior as one of the first members of a prominent sovereign family to be publicly out as gay. Since then there was nothing _not_ public about Jensen—reckless and charming and third in line for an ancient yet miniscule throne—he was a single-name celebrity, the darling of the tabloids on nearly every continent, growing more notorious for wild partying and partner-hopping every year. His face was everywhere: magazine covers and tell-all television exposes, in the gathering at every high profile cultural event and in the hearts of fevered fanclubs worldwide. 

Like any red-blooded gay teen, Jared himself had crushed and crushed hard on Prince Jensen. Years before working at Paradiso—ever since he first realized he liked boys, in fact—Jared had followed the prince’s fame, in print and on the internet, spinning out Disney-flavored day-dreams of love at first sight and happily ever after. Time hadn’t cured that adolescent crush, either. Jared still collected all the news reports and video and pictures he could find. He had a first-run copy of Jensen’s autobiography that he’d bought after waiting in line at Border’s. He’d even contributed to Jensen’s Wikipedia page. Just a month ago, while moving out of his dorm room at UT, Jared had untaped from the wall a collage of the photos from last’s year’s _Vogue_ spread of Prince Jensen playing polo, standing tall in the stirrups, fitted white pants pulling taut over his thighs. 

Osric broke into Jared’s reverie. “I’ve never met a prince before. What’s he like?”

Jared shrugged. “I have no idea.”

~~~~~

  


[ ](http://s37.photobucket.com/albums/e57/deirdre_c/unmakethebed/?action=view&current=June_30.png)

  


The day before the guests arrived, Sera called the Housekeeping corps together again to distribute assignments for the first week. She always made a big show of it, each staffer’s set of rooms written by hand on crisp white stationary, sealed in an envelope with his or her name on it. Sera saved Jared’s for last, and when she finally got to him, handed it over with a huge grin.

He was expecting to see a longer list, but there were only three reservations written down. The first was for the Elysium Villa: “Christina Hendricks and guests.” Jared vaguely recognized the name, but he wasn’t sure where from. An actress, he thought. She was staying the first two weeks, and then for the second two weeks was listed, “Heidi Klum and guests.” Next was the Arcadia Villa and Rafael Nadal. That name he recognized from the summer before. His eyes quickly scanned to the third row and he had to read it three times for it to register, in the Shambhala Villa: His Royal Highness, Jensen Ackles.

Jared stared at the paper, squeezed his eyes shut, and stared again. 

Jensen. Prince Jensen of Espian. 

When Jared had first been offered a place at Paradiso and discovered that Jensen was a regular guest, he almost turned down the job. It was one thing to do laundry for Ryan Seacrest or serve a drink to Rihanna, it was another to come face-to-face with one’s fantasy True Love. But in the end, Paradiso’s pay was much too generous for someone in Jared’s position to refuse. Besides, it turned out Jared hadn’t actually seen much of Prince Jensen in the two previous summers, being occupied with his cleaning assignments and other duties. When he would find an excuse to wander into the main guest areas, he could watch Jensen from just far enough away to duck and hide if need be.

A memory from the previous summer sparked like a falling star. Jensen on the dance floor at Eden, white linen shirt open at the neck, holding another man in his arms, head thrown back with laughter. 

Jared looked up from the paper in his hand and asked Sera, “Why me?” This was their most prestigious assignment, and at least ten other people in Housekeeping had seniority over him.

“I went over our staff list with Prince Jensen’s personal assistant,” she said. “We reviewed everyone’s background and abilities, and you were the one she chose.”

“I don’t—” 

“Jared,” she cut him off. “You know you’re a superb attendant, our best these three years running. Plus, His Highness comes here every year and every year he is one of our _least_ demanding guests. You won’t have any trouble.” She took one look at the fear that must be written in capital letters across his face, and laughed at him. “Just do your job the way you always do and quit worrying.”

~~~~~

  


[ ](http://s37.photobucket.com/albums/e57/deirdre_c/unmakethebed/?action=view&current=July_1.png)

  


The prince was scheduled to arrive in the late afternoon via the resort’s private speedboat, which was the only transport with access to the island. Some staff, including Jared, traditionally lurked around the docks that day to catch sight of him and his small entourage. This year, Jared missed Jensen’s actual arrival because he was waiting in front of the office to meet with the prince’s assistant, Ms. Ferris.

She was an intimidating woman, attractive and sharp-eyed, and Jared felt the need to stand up a bit straighter when she walked up to introduce herself. 

She didn’t beat around the bush, straightaway handing him a sheet of paper and starting up toward Jensen’s villa, explaining as she went. “This is the list of special requests His Highness has of his service staff. First, you will be the _only_ staff to enter his lodgings unannounced. Any others must be cleared through you or his bodyguards. Second, he will not be dining in the resort restaurant, so you will bring all meals to him at his villa. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner.” 

Jared was slightly taken aback at this, wondering why the prince would choose to eat in his rooms. He walked along slightly behind Ms. Ferris past the hibiscus and anthuriums and the big symmetrical fans of a traveler’s palm that lined the pathway, keeping pace with her quick, purposeful stride, but trying to appear deferential. Paradiso fashions tended toward casual, and the sound of her heels clicking on the stone pavers rang loud in Jared’s ears.

“I have already informed Ms. Dinwiddie about the in-room meals,” Ms. Ferris continued, “and she will help you coordinate with Mr. Morgan and the resort’s other chefs. Right there is an outline of His Highness’s food preferences.”

The list was relatively short, and, given that Jared had been handed an entire _binder_ containing specialized requests from Tyler Perry last summer, Prince Jensen’s requirements seemed surprisingly simple.

“Any questions?” She stopped suddenly in the middle of the walk and looked up at him, smiling for the first time in a way that positively lit up her face.

“Um. Doesn’t His Highness have a—” Jared hesitated. It seemed so obvious, but also a bit indelicate to come right out and ask. “—a companion with him this trip?”

One of the many things Jensen was famous for was his, as he called it, “boycott” of long-term relationships. Celebrity-watchers kept gleeful track of his bed-hopping. He was never seen with the same guy twice at parties or events. Jared had read that his summer month at Paradiso and his annual trips to Méribel, France for skiing in the winters were the longest with any given partner. Jensen himself had proudly proclaimed it in an interview one time in _Vanity Fair_ , where he’d spoken about his romantic philosophy, or lack thereof: “Better to establish an understanding up front, so no one gets hurt. I’m not looking for a relationship. Setting a timeline for each person I date doesn’t foster any false expectations.” 

Fans called him daring and modern; critics bemoaned his licentiousness. Men of all ages threw themselves at him in hopes of being the flavor of the week. Jared simply felt sympathy for any poor guy that Jensen kicked out of bed.

In reaction to Jared’s question about a companion, he thought he saw a shadow fall across Ms. Ferris’s face, but she quickly turned and walked on, so he wasn’t certain. Her terse response, “Not this year,” didn’t lend itself to further discussion. 

They walked together up the main path to the front door of the Shambhala Villa, the most luxurious location on the premises. As they approached, Jared saw, next to the front door, a man in khakis and a collared shirt. He was older than Jared but not old, shorter than Jared, but not short. He was blond and boyishly handsome. He certainly wasn’t Prince Jensen.

Ms. Ferris made introductions. “Stark, this is Jared Padalecki, the villa’s housekeeper during His Highness’s stay this year. Jared, this is one of the prince’s two bodyguards, Stark Sands.”

“Nice to meet you.” Stark held out his hand. “I guess I’ll be seeing a lot of you this month.” 

Jared reached out to shake. “Hello.” It seemed strange to think of bodyguards being necessary on the island, but Jensen always brought them with him. What did Jared know? The guy seemed nice enough, so Jared let himself respond to Stark’s big grin with a small answering smile of his own. 

“I’m here all day, six to six,” Stark told him. “Alex is the other bodyguard, he takes the night shift. We’re the ones staying in the extra rooms out back.” The Shambhala Villa had a small auxiliary cottage, two rooms and a galley kitchen. Jared supposed it was all a couple of bodyguards needed. A kind of paid vacation.

Jared nodded. “I’ll be here every morning from eight to ten, and I will be stopping by with lunch and in the evening with dinner too. But really, I’m available to you or to His Highness at any time,” he added. “Just let me know if there’s anything you need.”

Stark agreed he would and held the door open for Ms. Ferris. Jared followed and found the villa was quiet as they walked through the entryway. As far as Jared could tell, there was not a single change from the way he’d left it that morning after he’d gone through his final preparation checklist. Among the spare, graceful furnishings in the main living room there were no traces at all of Jensen having moved in.

Ms. Ferris looked as perplexed as Jared, suggesting, “In the office?”

Jared showed her the way past the open kitchen and eating area to the hall that led to the living quarters. He stopped in front of the door to the first spare bedroom, which had been set up as an office as per request. 

Ms. Ferris led the way through the door without knocking and Jared trailed behind uncertainly. Here was evidence of a planned month-long stay, but not much of a vacation: laptop and printer, books and file folders, what looked to Jared to be some kind of scanner or fax machine. Prince Jensen didn’t turn from his computer when they walked in.

With a delicate cough to get his attention, Ms. Ferris said, “Your Highness, this is Jared Padalecki. He’s the housekeeping staff member assigned to the villa for your stay, if that’s acceptable.”

Finally Prince Jensen looked up, spinning in his chair to face them, his eyes traveling from Jared’s face to his feet and back. Jared forgot to breathe. It seemed impossible, but the prince was even more perfect in person than in magazines, up close even more overwhelming than from across the beach. It was kind of surreal, just being in the same room as him, much less under his scrutiny. Jared wondered whether his shirt had come untucked on the walk up, and he was pretty sure his hair was sticking up in back. 

“You’ve got to be kidding.” Prince Jensen glanced over at Ms. Ferris with one eyebrow raised. 

Jared felt himself flush, mortified, biting the inside of his cheek to distract himself from the impulse to turn around and run.

“Does everyone in housekeeping look like you?” the prince smiled when he said it, clearly trying to ease the blow of rejection, but there was enough of an edge in his voice that Jared felt the cut of it. He knew he was over-sized and gawky, not some sultry, dainty thing like Gen nor lithe and sophisticated like the companions Jared had seen Prince Jensen bring with him in past summers, but he hadn’t been expecting Jensen to come right out and say it.

“No, Your Highness,” Jared said, voice croaking a little. He cleared his throat. “There are plenty of other people who could be assigned to your rooms. I’m sure Ms. Gamble can work out a change.” He started to shuffle backward, desperately calculating the steps it would take to get him out of here. 

“Wait.” Jensen’s terse command stopped him in his tracks. 

Ms. Ferris said, smiling brittlely, “I’ve been assured he’s their very best. At your service, twenty-four seven.” She glanced at Jared who, although it wasn’t exactly what was in his contract, couldn’t do anything but nod affirmatively. “You won’t even notice he’s here, Your Highness. He’ll be completely invisible.”

The prince emphatically looked Jared up and down again, one corner of his mouth curved up in disbelief.

“Alright,” Ms. Ferris amended. “Mostly invisible.”

Then she stepped forward, placing one hand on Jensen’s shoulder, and murmured something in his ear, too low for Jared to hear, but clearly about him. 

Jensen pulled back to look at her for a moment, then nodded. “Fine,” he said. It wasn’t exactly a ringing endorsement. Jared wanted to sink into the ground.

He turned to Jared, who expected some kind of lofty brush-off, but instead the prince just looked kind of… sad. “I don’t suppose I’m going to be very good company this month, but I appreciate you working here. I’ll be underfoot most of the time, but I’ll try not to be too much bother.” 

Jared had no idea how to respond to such a statement. Jensen could be as much of a bother as he liked. A dozen assurances of assistance and helpfulness log-jammed in the back of Jared’s throat, but all that came out was straight from Sera’s Housekeeping 101 script. “Thank you. I’m at your service, sir.”

Prince Jensen gave him a long look, but then nodded and turned back to his desk, clearly dismissing them. Ms. Ferris put a hand on Jared’s arm to usher him out of the room.

~~~~~

Jared escorted Ms. Ferris back to the reception center for a final meeting with Ms. Dinwiddie, then turned around again to walk up toward the Elysium Villa to introduce himself to Ms. Hendricks. He sucked in what felt like his first lungful of air since he'd entered the prince’s presence.

Prince Jensen. Jesus.

That voice: low and smooth, the English spoken with no trace of accent at all. That face: the perfect lines like the profile on a Roman coin softened by long lashes and those full lips Jared had so often dreamed about. This shouldn’t have been hitting him so hard; the prince was just another guest. And it wasn’t as if he saw Jared as anything other than hired help, grudgingly accepted at that. Jared was just going to have to find some way to compartmentalize, to avoid getting distracted by his childish, star-struck mooning and focus on getting the job done. 

If Jensen started to worry that Jared was inappropriate, he might feel uncomfortable around him, worse, might get Jared fired from a job he desperately needed. And for Jared, knowing himself and the way his stupid face showed everything he felt like an open book, that was not out of the realm of possibility. He was going to have to be extra careful, disciplined, professional. 

Oh why did the prince actually have to _be_ in the rooms during Jared’s service times? Most people at the resort took every advantage to be out and about, enjoying the island’s activities and treatments, its amenities and the company of other guests. If only Jensen would leave, Jared could easily—well, at least more easily—treat it like any other set of rooms to be attended to. But as it was, he could tell this assignment was going to be torture.

~~~~~

  


  


[ ](http://s37.photobucket.com/albums/e57/deirdre_c/unmakethebed/?action=view&current=July_2.png)

  


The next morning at 7:55am sharp, after a long run with Tom’s gang that helped everyone shake off their opening-day nerves, Jared walked up the hill where Shambhala Villa reigned over panoramic views of the glowing beach below and dark forest beside. He was carrying a soft canvas bag containing the day’s linens—fresh bed sheets of an obscenely high thread count and a variety of thick white hand and bath towels to replace whatever Prince Jensen may have used already.

A rosewood porch shaded the main door into the villa, and Stark sat lounging in a chair, the small table pulled up beside him piled with a stack of books. “’Mornin’,” he called jovially as Jared came into view.

Jared shifted the bag under one arm, giving a slight wave in greeting, and pulled a packet of pistachios he’d swiped from the kitchens that morning out of his shorts pocket. The night before he’d sat down with Danneel, who’d been Prince Jensen’s housekeeper last season, and grilled her for every detail she knew about Jensen and his staff. It turned out pistachios were Stark’s favorite.

Jared set the nuts carefully on the corner of Stark’s side table and walked past him to the door. He heard a surprised “Hey, thanks!” as he turned the knob and ducked through the entryway into the villa’s front hall.

Jared headed directly to the small room—barely more than a closet, really—hidden at the back of the kitchen that contained the cleaning supplies and extraneous gear needed to keep the rooms tidy. He loved this space, its strict organization, the bright, tangy smells of laundry soap and lemony antiseptics. He set the bag of clean linens on a low counter and unpacked them in careful stacks. He arranged his separate containers filled with specific sets of cleaners and cloths and brushes for kitchen and for bath and the outside veranda furniture. Then he stopped stalling and headed out to check with the prince.

The office door stood open again, but Jared stopped outside the entryway and knocked lightly on the frame.

Prince Jensen’s low voice, still gruff with morning, said, “Come in.” 

Jared stepped a few inches inside the room. “I just wanted to see if there’s anything I can get you before I bring in breakfast, Your Highness,” he said, eyes on Jensen’s feet. Jensen was barefoot, wearing soft plaid sleep pants and a t-shirt, and Jared’s stomach flipped at the sight of him.

“No, thanks. I’m fine,” Jensen replied, still typing away, but Jared could see that Jensen had already made himself a cup of coffee that was nearly empty, so he backed silently out of the room and headed for the kitchen. 

Although the leftover coffee in the French press on the counter was still warm, Jared poured it out and boiled some fresh water, grinding beans and setting the new pot to brew. He gathered fruit out of the fridge that he’d left in there yesterday—star apples, raspberries and mangoes—cut them up, made sourdough toast, and set everything on a tray with butter, marmalade, brown sugar crystals but not cream, silverware, and a soft rose-colored napkin that matched exactly the runner on the dining room table. 

He walked the breakfast tray back to the office, nearly tripping over his feet at the sight of Jensen sucking on a pen in concentration over the stack of papers he was reading. He had his legs crossed, Indian-style in the chair, and he was so casually beautiful it was criminal. 

Jared managed to gather himself sufficiently to set the tray on the dresser, carefully clearing a space on the desk next without dislodging anything that seemed important, arranging the food and coffee to hand. He could see the prince watching him out of the corner of his eye, and Jared hunched over, trying to make his bulk as small and unobtrusive as possible as he placed Jensen’s used cup on the empty tray to take away with him, then backed out of the room. 

Once more, it took a minute after he’d escaped Jensen’s orbit to start breathing again. He shook himself and set his mind to making his way systematically through his list of tasks. He started in the kitchen: cleaning up knives and cutting boards from the breakfast prep, wiping every surface, sweeping and mopping the floor, collecting the small amount of garbage to take away with him. Once everything was spotless, he moved on to the still-pristine living room to clean it nonetheless. To the spacious master bathroom next, where the shower was scrubbed, sink polished, towels replaced, and the prince’s scattered toiletries rearranged into neat groupings. Jared left the bedroom for last. He made his way through the room, sweeping, dusting dustless surfaces, and finally—blanking his mind and firmly tamping down the desire to do anything stupid—removing the swirled and crumpled sheets, remaking the bed crisp and pristine and white, its thick pillows piled high like after-dinner mints, its fluffed down comforter skimming over the top like a bank of clouds.

Prince Jensen never left the office that morning, as far as Jared could tell. The whole time Jared was puttering around the villa, Jensen stayed curved over his computer, barely moving except for explosive bursts of tapping at keys. It was nothing like Jared had expected, nothing like what he’d seen in the brief glimpses of the prince in the two previous summers. This Jensen’s mouth pressed in a thin line compared with that Jensen’s laughing and chatting, this one’s skin still winter-pale instead of the other’s burnished gold and freckled in the island sun.

When the last item on Jared's list had mentally been checked off, he glanced down at his watch. It was almost ten, and he needed to move on to Ms. Hendricks’ villa. But something in him was reluctant to leave. As if, whatever was plaguing Jensen, he could lighten the load just by being there. Which was silly. Jensen wasn’t plagued and he didn’t need Jared. He hadn’t even acknowledged his existence. 

“Thank you, Jared.”

He jumped at the sound of Jensen’s voice. “You’re welcome, Your Highness.” He fought to keep his voice level as his heart revved its engines. 

With his legs crossed at the ankles, the prince was leaning against a kitchen counter, drinking from a glass of ginger ale he’d poured for himself. Jared hoped he wasn’t annoyed that Jared hadn’t thought to fetch one for him.

“I’ll be back with your lunch around noon,” Jared offered in amends. “In the meantime, can I get you anything else before I go?”

Jensen cocked his head and looked at him an eternally long moment, then said, “You have to answer one question for me before you leave.”

Jared lifted his chin, trying to ignore the surge of apprehension mixed with curiosity. “Okay?”

“What’s your middle name?”

That was unexpected. Jared thought it hard to believe Jensen didn’t know already; he must have had a dossier a mile long provided on demand by Sera when Jared was originally assigned. He could hardly refuse to answer, though. “It’s Tristan, sir.”

“Mine’s Ross,” Jensen replied mildly. “It’s my grandfather’s name.”

 _I know,_ Jared thought. _And your grandfather is the third Espian monarch called that._. He managed to keep that embarrassingly detailed knowledge to himself, stuttering out instead, “I see, yes. Thank you.” He sounded like an imbecile. “If that’s all, Your Highness?”

“See you at lunch, Jared.”

~~~~~

The rest of the morning flew by. Ms. Hendricks’ villa was a breeze compared to Jensen’s. Neither of the two was messy at all, but the fact that she and her boyfriend weren’t there when Jared was cleaning made the psychic space less distracting. Afterward, Jared returned with the prince’s lunch, JD’s kitchen having provided ham sliced paper thin and spicy chorizo sausage, thick slabs of silken avocado and sun-ripened tomato. Jared served it to Jensen in the office and cleared it away, all without a single comment until, once again when he was ready to leave, Jensen said, “I have another question.”

“Yes?” Jared said, already sensing that this was going to be a thing with the prince, wondering if he should ask Danneel about it. 

“Any brothers or sisters?”

“One of each, Your Highness,” Jared responded, confused by the personal question. Why would Jensen care? “An older brother and a younger sister.”

“Really? Me too. Older and younger, brother and sister.”

Jensen was silent for a minute, and Jared shifted from foot to foot before catching himself, enforcing professional stillness until at last he couldn’t wait any longer. “Will that be all, sir?”

“Yes,” Jensen said, looking up abruptly, as if he’d forgotten Jared was there. “Thank you.”

Jared checked on what he needed to restock the refrigerator and collected the trash from lunch and headed out the door to clean the Annex and then head down the hill to Arcadia. It would be a relief to escape the prince’s questions; the temptation to tell Jensen everything about himself was hard to resist.

~~~~~

At the staff’s nightly after-hours parties, everyone—except for those working late shifts—traded turns as cleanup crew; there was no one on the island serving the servers. Jared and Gen signed up for the same night each week, so that if they were the ones stuck gathering up empty cups and hauling bags of ice and such until the party shut down at midnight, at least they were doing it together.

They were cleaning up that night along with Mike and Jake and Alona, because they’d all agreed the newbies probably needed a break after the excitement of the initial day of guests. Old-school UB40 played in the background as Gen threw a mostly-empty bowl of chips into the trash bag she was carrying. “So what do you think of your Prince Jensen? Is he really going to hide in his rooms all month?”

Jared never failed to be amazed at how fast gossip traveled around this place. He shrugged. “I don’t know. He hasn’t said much. I was expecting…” But he trailed off. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting.

“What?”

Jared was pretty sure that something was wrong. It wasn’t simply mourning a loved one, it was something else. Something that needed action. Jensen wasn’t acting as he had the past few summers, and the intensity with which he was working on the computer felt off-kilter to Jared. But Jared wasn’t willing to speculate about it, not even with Gen. Jared didn’t like rumors to begin with, but, beyond that, there was something already precious about his interactions with the prince. Not the ignoring, of course, but he would happily take politeness and odd questions. He wanted to keep them to himself.

“I don’t know,” he said finally. “He just seems different.” 

Gen gave him a sideways glance, but let it be. She pointed him toward a spilled cup of sangria by the poolside, and he went quickly to sop it up.

~~~~~

  


  


[ ](http://s37.photobucket.com/albums/e57/deirdre_c/unmakethebed/?action=view&current=July_3.png)

  


Every day that first week was much the same. Jared would come in the morning bearing small gifts for Stark, and others for Alex at dinner time: crossword puzzle books and yogurt-covered pretzels; colorful, thick-paged histories of 18th century pirates in the Turks and Caicos island chain; a bootleg CD of local Ripsaw music.

One afternoon Stark was regaling Jared with a story of his time in the Espian army when Jared interrupted to ask, “This may be a strange question, but why does Prince Jensen even need bodyguards? It doesn’t seem like he’s in much danger, here or anywhere else.”

“Jensen’s mother, God rest her soul, was always worried about the—” Stark paused, searching for a word, “—trouble Jensen liked to get into. I think she figured Alex and I might be a restraining influence. Or, if not, at least keep him from getting arrested or doing himself some serious injury.”

“How has that worked out?” Jared asked.

“It’s had its ups and down. Lately, though? It’s been no work at all.”

~~~~~

  


  


[ ](http://s37.photobucket.com/albums/e57/deirdre_c/unmakethebed/?action=view&current=July_5.png)

  


Unlike his sociability with the guards, with the prince himself Jared tried to remain all business. He would make a diffident check-in when he first arrived before each meal and hide in the supply closet whenever Jensen ventured out of his office. Their main interactions were those random questions upon departure: where was Jared from, what university did he attend, what was his favorite band. With each question, Jensen always offered an answer of his own in return, and Jared played a game with himself to see if he could guess Jensen’s response before he said it. _Espian’s capital, Lorrance_. _Oxford._ _The Impalas._

After a dinner that had Jared’s belly growling in envy—pumpkin soup, whelks steamed with garlic, lobster roasted with nutmeg and lime, a warm slice of banana bread slathered with butter—Jensen asked, “Here’s my next question, who do you run with in the mornings?”

Jared blinked, and his filter momentarily slipped. “How did you know we run?”

“I’m an early riser, and I can see you all jog past from my bedroom windows. You’ve been doing it every summer for years, right?”

“Yes, Your Highness,” Jared replied, completely nonplussed. He’d had no clue any guests would be up at that hour to see them, couldn’t believe that _Prince Jensen_ had been watching. His face heated up as he thought about all of their goofing around: Mike’s habit of tripping Jake into the surf; Tom running in boxers when all his shorts were in the laundry; sand fights, and butt slaps, and impromptu piggyback rides; Jared himself running sweaty and shirtless on particularly hot, still days, Gen having tied Jared’s hair back in silly miniature pigtails. What must they all look like? “It’s just some of the staff, sir.”

“I like to run. Not that I’ve been getting much exercise lately. Maybe I could join you sometime?”

Jared tried not to boggle at the idea, tried to keep his face a mask, but something must have snuck past, because Jensen’s mouth screwed up in a rueful smile. “Or maybe not.”

Perhaps the polite thing, or the politic thing, would have been to extend an invitation, but Jared was quite simply stunned into silence. He stood there until dismissed, then quickly gathered up the dinner tray and stumbled out the front door.

~~~~~

  


  


[ ](http://s37.photobucket.com/albums/e57/deirdre_c/unmakethebed/?action=view&current=July_6.png)

  


On Friday, Jared was on his knees in the bathroom, scrubbing the tile around the shower when he heard the door open to the office. Jensen had been sequestered in there for the past two hours, and Jared hoped that he was headed to the kitchen for food or outside for some fresh air on the veranda that faced the beach. Jared only had the bedroom left to clean and much preferred that Jensen wasn’t around while he did. There was something so personal about being in the room where Jensen slept, touching sheets that he’d sprawled on, gathering discarded clothes from the floor where the scent of Jensen’s body lingered. The bathroom wasn’t much better—images of Jensen showering, water flowing over his naked body, flickered constantly through Jared’s head as he worked—but the coldness of the tile and the pungent, clinical scent of cleaner helped cut through it. Jensen’s bedroom was all soft pillows and earthy colors and the feel was too intimate.

With Jared’s back turned to the bathroom door, he felt more than saw Jensen enter. Jensen didn’t say a word, just stood and watched. Suddenly, awkwardness was no longer Jared’s main concern. Instead he felt the rise of that familiar twitchy, slightly nauseous response that he’d had for the last three years whenever someone came up behind him.

He flashed back to his first week on campus away from home, a wet-behind-the-ears freshman. He and his new roommate, Milo, had gone to a fraternity rush party, and late in the night, Jared had timidly followed a hot upperclassman upstairs, somehow ending up in a room with a group of muscle-bound, shit-faced brothers, six or seven of them. When he’d tried to leave, they’d taunted him, _faggot_ and _cock-sucker_ , started pushing him around, ended up shoving him face down on the bed, holding him down, taking turns, rutting hard against his ass in a revolting simulation of sex as he smothered in the stale, foul-smelling sheets.

He jerked himself out of the memory, clamped down on the residual fear of being exposed and vulnerable, the suspicion he was about to be jumped, the need to flee. _You’re in Shambhala,_ he told himself. _It’s just Prince Jensen. He wouldn’t hurt you._ Jared kept scrubbing, long after the tile was spotless, forcing himself to endure. 

Jensen left as noiselessly as he arrived. As soon as he did, Jared swiftly packed up his bathroom cleaners and rags, storing everything neatly, precisely in the little supply closet, checking everything twice, three times. He pressed his forehead against the closed door and took a few deep breaths. He still had the bedroom to clean, then the final check in and, inevitably, Jensen’s one question to face. 

Jared tended to the bedroom quickly, as though on auto-pilot, and then found Jensen on the veranda. The air out there was heavy, warm, scented—partly a salty sea-smell from the inrushing tide not forty yards away; but partly, too, the smell of lush land floating out from the hillsides, the fragrance of frangipani and blooming spice trees. Jensen’s villa stood farthest from the rest of the cluster of outlying villas, closest to the dense forest that covered the rest of Paradise Cay’s acreage that the resort did not touch. One scent of that air in Jared’s lungs, and the bitter dregs of his anxiety seemed to evaporate.

“Would you like a drink, sir?” Jared held a tray out for Jensen to take his usual ginger ale.

“Thanks. You have to answer a question before you go, you know.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m used to it by now.” It was an impertinent thing to say, but Jensen had looked like he was teasing when he’d asked, white teeth flashing and eyes crinkling at the corners, and Jared could almost, _almost_ pretend they were friends, having a conversation. 

“How did you learn to be so… so tidy?”

“From my Aunt Joanne,” Jared replied. “She cleans motels and offices back in San Antonio. Well, she used to clean them. A few years ago she busted up her knee and has been laid up ever since.” 

Aunt Joanne had taken on the responsibility of raising Jared and his siblings when Jared’s parents suffered a horrific car crash, leaving his father dead and his mother with three small children and a disastrous addiction to pain medication. Jared had only been seven, watching his mother spiral rapidly downward, physically and mentally, until one day—Megan’s third birthday, in fact—she dumped her three kids in the care of her only sister and took off, never to be heard from again. 

“I’m sorry to hear that. But how does that make _you_ the cleanly one?” 

“Aunt Jo pretty much raised my brother and sister and me,” Jared explained. “When we were kids we didn’t have much money.” As understatements go, that was a doozy. “And since she couldn’t pay a babysitter, she’d take us with her to the job. Jeff and Megan would sit in the car or, when it was too hot for that, walk down to the nearest convenience store. But I liked to follow her around, help clean the rooms.”

“Even as a kid?” Jensen said.

Jared chuckled a little, remembering. “Yeah. We saw some of the most _disgusting_ things, but I thought it was gross in a cool way. She’d make me put on a pair of her rubber gloves before I could touch anything and they’d practically fall off of me.” He looked down, fisting and flexing his now over-sized paws. “Guess you could say it’s the family business.”

Then he looked past Jensen, back into the villa with the $16,000 couch and the original artwork, behind him the gentle crashing of waves on the private beach, and thought about that nine-year-old child scrubbing vomit off the floor of a wretched, moldy bathroom. He’d worked hard since then, trying to keep the family afloat. Jeff had fucked up, yeah, but Jared had gotten out, gotten his full scholarship to UT for engineering. And even though Meg had dropped out of high school to have a baby, somehow, she would make it to college too. He’d see to it. 

He stepped back from the table, putting an extra bit of distance between them. “If there’s nothing else you need right now, sir?”

“No,” Jensen said. His brow furrowed, and Jared wondered what he thought, if he was trying to imagine what Jared’s life was like, a universe away from his own. 

The bag of soiled laundry on one arm and the garbage draped over the other, Jared pulled the door shut behind him, nodded farewell to Stark without stopping to chat, and headed back down the hill.

~~~~~

  


  


[ ](http://s37.photobucket.com/albums/e57/deirdre_c/unmakethebed/?action=view&current=July_7.png)

  


The next day Jensen was back in his office, finished with breakfast and settled with fresh coffee. Jared was back to working his way through the villa: kitchen, bathroom, bedroom, pool. He flipped the switch to turn on the line of recessed lights in the hall, and noticed the third bulb in the row was burnt out. He stared at it indignantly, not appreciating its lack of cooperation. He knew he should notify one of the guys from Facilities, but Jared was pretty sure Matt Cohen was on call at the moment, and the other night he’d overheard the guy spouting off about Jensen’s reclusiveness this summer and making some pretty shitty innuendos. No way was he giving Cohen an excuse to come up here.

So Jared went back and dug around in the supply room until he found the right kind of bulb for that fixture. Prize secured, he looked around for something tall enough to double as a ladder, and ended up dragging a backless barstool from the kitchen seating into the hall. He tucked the replacement light into his back pocket and climbed up carefully to balance on the stool’s tiny round seat, feeling a bit like a circus elephant perched on a rubber ball, reaching up with one hand to unscrew the dead bulb, the other flat against the wall in front of him. 

Just then, the prince came striding out of his office and into the hall, colliding with Jared’s perch and pinballing back. The stool tilted onto two legs, and Jared swayed wildly, his arms making windmills, shifting his weight in a desperate attempt to avoid toppling over. Just when he was about to overbalance, Jensen stepped in and wrapped his arms around Jared’s thighs, bracing his legs to steady the stool. 

They both paused together motionless for a second, as if to be sure the crisis was over. In the meantime, Jared was silently freaking out, his wires crossed in a jumble of horror at being such a klutz in front of Prince Jensen, his chronic panic at being grabbed unexpectedly, and a bright-white thrill at the firm, steady grip of Jensen’s hands on him. 

Jensen stepped back to make room for Jared to jump down.

“What the hell were you doing?” the prince snarled. Jared was taken aback at the tone. He was used to resort guests frequently being bad-tempered and taking it out on staff, but it was the first time Jensen had raised his voice.

Jared put the stool between him and Jensen, mortified. He was getting too comfortable, getting sloppy. “Sorry. I’m sorry,” he said. “There was—the bulb needed changing and I thought I’d just take care of it. I didn’t mean to upset you, Your Highness.” 

Jensen sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “Hey, no. I’m not angry,” he said. “I thought you were going to fall. I just—I didn’t want you to get injured.” He stared at Jared, a crease forming between his eyes. 

Jensen was worried about him. The thought sparked a little light of warmth, soothed Jared’s thumping heart a little.

Jensen looked up at the ceiling. “I guess we can't just leave it like that.”

Jared followed his gaze, saw the empty socket gaping like a lost tooth.

“If you’re going back up there,” Jensen continued, “how about I spot you?” He casually stepped back a pace from the stool, feet shoulder-width apart, as if this was completely normal.

What was Jared supposed to say to that? “Okay.” He clambered back up on his perch, feeling ten times more gangly than he had when he _didn’t_ have his ass at Prince Jensen’s eye level.

“So,” Jensen called up, as Jared fitted the new bulb into place, “how many princes does it take to change a lightbulb?”

“I don’t know,” Jared answered dutifully, slotting the fresh bulb in its place. _One_ , something whispered in the back of his brain. _I only need one._

“None,” Jensen said. “But only if he doesn’t manage to kill the room attendant first.”

Jared couldn’t help it, he snorted. “Did you make that up all by yourself?” 

“That bad, huh?” Jared glanced down and saw Jensen was smirking, happily making fun of himself. He was so stupidly attractive.

Jared crouched, ready to hop down, when Jensen stepped forward with his hand extended. “Here,” Jensen said, moving even closer, “be careful.” Jared hesitated for a beat, staring dumbly at the palm of Jensen's hand before his brain caught up and he reached out, folding into Jensen's solid grip.

As he lowered himself, Jensen held tight, steadying Jared until his feet hit the floor. Jared felt the spark of their connection tingle its way through his entire arm, scattering a breadcrumb trail of goosebumps as it went. He realized he was still holding on to Jensen and quickly tugged back from his grasp. When he dared look up, he found the prince watching him back, and unreadable expression on his face. Moments ticked by, their joking ease only a minute before replaced by an awkward silence, until Jared blurted out, “Can I get you something?” at the same time Jensen said, “So, I was just coming out for a glass of water.” 

Jared smiled and Jensen did too, and at that the tension was broken. Jared nodded, “Let me get it for you,” and turned toward the kitchen, snagging the stool in one hand.

~~~~~

  


  


[ ](http://s37.photobucket.com/albums/e57/deirdre_c/unmakethebed/?action=view&current=July_8.png)

  


After that, Jensen started taking long breaks at a time from his office, took to following Jared around as he did his chores, asking about Jared’s cleaning system and talking about his own previous stays at the resort. Jared noticed that Jensen seemed careful not to stand behind him, and he wondered if he’d given himself away the other day. He almost longed for the panic because, without it, the awkwardness was back tenfold. Especially when he was on his knees in the bathroom scrubbing out the tub and Jensen would stand nearby, leaning on the wall. Jared had to shove aside images of crawling on all fours over to sit at Jensen’s feet, climbing up him to pull the zipper of Jensen’s jeans down with his teeth. Mostly because thoughts like that were exceptionally lame and cliché, and also because maneuvering to hide a boner made scrubbing uncomfortable.

Even worse was making the bed with the prince standing around chatting. Jared had stuck to his vow to be properly detached when handling Jensen’s things, only once in awhile letting his hands linger over a wet towel or the dent in a pillow. But with Jensen watching, changing sheets was ten times weirder, everything Jared did seemed like it was suggestive, regardless of how fiercely he tugged at the fitted corners or fluffed the duvet. 

Fluffed the duvet. Yeah, that didn’t sound sexual at all. 

And then there was Jensen’s voice, his running commentary. Soft, gentle, husky. It was crazy but Jared felt as though the sound of it touched him physically, flowed across his skin. He’d become accustomed to Jensen sequestering himself, to being ignored, so this attention was unnerving. He picked up the bundle of used sheets, nostrils flaring involuntarily to pick up any residual odor, and slowly backed up. “I just need to finish up, sir, and then I’ll get out of your way.” 

A small smile touched Jensen’s lips. “You aren’t ever in my way.” 

That smile was lethal. And if Jared didn’t remove himself from the prince’s presence he’d continue to indulge stupid, impossible fantasies that interfered with his ability to exist without spontaneously combusting. He turned and strode to the door, feeling Jensen’s gaze centered on his back like a spotlight.

“Don’t forget, you have to answer your question before you go,” he called.

“Of course,” Jared replied. “I’ll be right back.” He practically ran down the hall, hands shaking while he wrestled the dirty laundry into its bag. 

When he returned, Jensen was outside, sitting on the lip of the villa’s pool, pants rolled up to the knee, bare feet paddling in the shallow end. No, _the prince_ was by the pool. Jared needed to keep thinking of him that way to remind himself that he wasn’t a friend of Jared’s or even a legitimate crush, but European royalty and could probably buy and sell the entire resort at the snap of his fingers. 

Just because Prince Jensen was alone here without his traditional Summer Fling lover didn’t mean he was available. And even if he were, Jared would be just about the last person on the island in line for a chance with him.

Besides, there was always Ms. Dinwiddie’s “look but don’t touch” policy when it came to the guests. Of course he could rattle off a list of his buddies who had bent or broken that particular rule at one time or another, but he could not afford to tempt fate. Six weeks of pay here funded his living expenses for the entire school year, plus some left over for Aunt Jo and Megan besides.

Jensen didn’t look over when Jared came outside, instead he lay back, stretched out flat so that he was staring into the sheer blue Caribbean sky. “So here’s your question.”

“Yes, sir?”

“What will it take to get you to call me ‘Jensen’?”

Jared looked away. “I don’t know,” he said. Then added, “Your Highness,” for the sake of his sanity.

~~~~~

  


  


[ ](http://s37.photobucket.com/albums/e57/deirdre_c/unmakethebed/?action=view&current=July_11.png)

  


Days went by much the same, Jared serving Jensen meals, then having him as a shadow from time-to-time as Jared moved around the villa, working his way under Jared’s skin. He tried to ignore Jensen, but it was harder and harder to maintain the polite distance, as Jensen told stories about outrageous parties he’d crashed or silly mischief he’d managed when he was a little boy, he and his siblings under the supervision of a hoard of strict tutors.

“We used to drive my grandfather nuts.” Jensen shook his head a little, the memories pulling a smile from his mouth. “My brother and I once snuck out of the stables with two of his finest Holsteiners, rode them miles and miles out into the countryside before they tracked us down. I couldn’t have been more than seven years old. But my grandfather, he didn’t punish us, just put a curry comb in my hand and told me to get brushing. Gave me my first polo mallet the next Christmas.”

Jensen had hefted himself up on the counter next to the sink and was watching as Jared spooned golden, aromatic stew into a bowl. “What is it?”

“JD’s conch chowder. You’ll like it.” Alona had given him a spoonful to try when he’d picked up the prince’s lunch that afternoon. It was spicy—thick with salt pork and jalapenos and rum—and Jared was praying there would be some left over to send to the staff for dinner that night.

“Don’t worry,” Jensen said. “I’ve certainly eaten weirder. They fed me ant eggs in Mexico City. It’s a delicacy. And there’s the sheep’s head in Norway. I’ve had tons of bizarre foods. Conch is nothing.”

Jared kept his eyes on the tray, pleating the napkin in intricate folds to create a pocket for the spoon. “Well, when I was in middle school, my best friend’s mom would make casserole out of road kill.” 

Jensen laughed and held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, you win.” He reached over and stole a fritter from the side dish, popping it in his mouth. “Tell me what else you like to eat, besides road kill.”

~~~~~

Jared had just finished the vacuuming in the living room and was trying to dodge around Jensen to put the little cordless sweeper away. “Excuse me, Your Highness.”

“What did I tell you about that title?” Jensen said, stepping deliberately in front of him.

“Your Worship?” Jared murmured under his breath, a little perturbed.

But Jensen heard, and cackled. “Who are you, Han Solo?” Jared smiled a little at Jensen catching the reference. “And what does that make me?”

“Well, if the steel bikini fits,” Jared replied innocently, and nearly bit his tongue in half for saying it aloud.

“I _knew_ it,” Jensen crowed. “I can recognize a fellow Star Wars lover at thirty paces. Now I know your next question: Who’s your favorite?”

“Boba Fett.”

“Ah, who isn’t grateful for Boba Fett?” Jensen said. “Me, I happen to have a soft spot for Luke, the cute but shy farmboy who saves the day.” Then he moved out of Jared’s way and retreated back into the office.

~~~~~

After that the daily questions became more personal, less “what are you majoring in?” and more “what do you think about when you’re trying to go to sleep?”

After one morning’s work Jensen asked, “Do you have a girlfriend?”

Jared paused. He’d seen this one coming, was afraid the answer might make things uncomfortable, make Jensen worry Jared planned to throw himself at him. “I’m—I’m gay, so no girlfriend.”

Jensen nodded with satisfaction, liked he’d already guessed and guessed right. “Well, I get to amend the question then. Do you have a _boyfriend_?”

Jared looked down at the floor. His usually made up some cute imaginary guy back at school to deflect attention from the fact that he never hooked up at staff parties. He peeked up through his bangs and saw Jensen lounging in the chair, waiting for an answer, and Jared decided that, if he was being quizzed by royalty, the safer bet was the truth. Jensen could probably have Ms. Ferris call up a dozen government operatives to look into Jared’s past if he wanted to. 

Besides, he didn’t want to lie to Jensen. “No. No boyfriend.” 

“So, any hot guys you have your eye on around here?”

“Have you seen the rest of the staff? Ms. Dinwiddie only hires them if they could appear on a magazine cover.”

“Where does that leave you then?” Jensen said with a wink.

Yeah, Jared was aware he was an exception to that particular rule. He looked down, picked some imaginary lint off of his shorts. “Well, I only got the job because my brother worked here when it first opened. Inherited his spot, you could say. I certainly couldn’t have landed it on my own.”

Jensen stared for a second, then said, all earnest, “Hey, that’s not—” but didn’t get any further before Jared cut off whatever pity he was about to dole out.

“Well. I better head out before Sera docks my pay.” He leaned down to adjust the throw pillow on the couch several times so that it sat at the right angle. “I’ll see you at lunch.”

“Seems to me you are awfully keen to change the subject when I asked whether there was anyone you liked. But I’m onto you. Stark tells me you’ve got your eye on one of the bartenders.”

Jared frowned. “Stark is a traitor.”

“And yet I feel that his loyalty is well-placed,” Jensen replied. “So tell me who?”

Why wouldn’t Jensen let it drop? Jared sighed, said, “Zach Levi. He’s a bartender at the bar that serves the infinity pool. You’ve probably seen him, he’s been on staff for a few years now.”

“Oh. Zach. I remember him,” Jensen said. “So what’s stopping you from jumping his bones?”

Jared gave him a withering look. “Have you met me? I can barely exchange three words with the guy.”

“Yes, well, you were like that with me a couple of weeks ago and look at us now.”

“You’re different.” If Zach was as unattainable as the moon, Jensen was some distant, uncharted galaxy. 

“Am I?”

“Of course you are. You’re the guest and I’m at your service," Jared said coolly. “And that reminds me, it’s time I attended to my other duties. Have a good morning, Your Highness.”

~~~~~

Jared was outside checking the pH balance in the pool in the afternoon when there was a loud knock at the door, someone practically pounding on it. Although Jared’s initial reaction was to rush inside, he made himself slow down, went into the villa, but stopped in the kitchen. He figured Stark was right outside if there was trouble.

Jensen left his desk and walked to the door, casually throwing it open like he hosted visitors every day, rather than hiding out in monastic isolation. 

“Hey!” Jensen’s cry of welcome echoed in the high ceiling’s rafters, and Jared’s curiosity overpowered his discretion. He leaned into the sight-line of the hallway to see who could evoke such a reaction. 

Jared’s eyes widened at the sight of Steve Carlson standing on the doorstep. Steve Carlson, bazillion-time Grammy winner, and Jared not twenty feet from him. It struck him how much his celebrity awe of Jensen had ebbed over the past two weeks when the sight of Steve Carlson brought it back in a rush. What was he doing here? Jared was sure he would’ve remembered seeing Steve’s name on the guest list for the month, or would have heard chatter among the other housekeepers about who scored his rooms. 

Jared ducked into the supply closet as Jensen led Steve into the villa, showing him around and asking after mutual friends, typical small talk with a newly-arrived guest. But Jensen sounded different than he had all month, his voice brighter, slightly louder.

“Jared,” he called, “come meet my buddy Steve.”

Jared combed his hair back with his fingers and quickly tucked his uniform shirt in more carefully, then stepped into the living room, stopping a precise two feet from the doorway as Sera had taught him. Up until that moment, if you’d asked Jared, he’d have told you he was a Steve Carlson fan. But now, here in person, there was something about him that set Jared’s teeth on edge. Something about how he was standing too close to Jensen, his arm thrown casually around Jensen’s shoulders.

“Can I get you gentlemen anything?”

Steve turned from looking at the view out of the picture windows, his eyebrows shooting up as he took in Jared’s appearance. “Well now,” he said. “Jen, I can see what you’ve been doing with your time. Has he got a friend for me?” He slanted his gaze back to Jensen. “Or, maybe you’d be willing to share?”

Jared felt his cheeks heat up, but kept his eyes on the far wall. 

“Shut up, you ass,” Jensen replied gruffly. “It’s not like that. Jared’s a good kid, a hard worker. He's—” Jensen paused for a second. “Don’t try to drag him down to our level.” Jared caught Jensen’s concerned glance out of the corner of his eye, but didn’t acknowledge any of it. Not the way Jensen came to his defense. Not the fact Jensen confirmed that he thought of Jared as an employee, and nothing else.

“Hey, what am I supposed to think?” Steve said. “Prince Jensen finally coming out of hiding after all these months, here on the old stomping grounds? I figured you were back in business, your normal self again.”

“Guess you figured wrong,” Jensen said, pulling away and positioning himself between Steve and Jared. “Why don’t we sit outside, and you can tell me why I’m suddenly graced with your presence.”

“Cool.” Steve strolled toward the door, the heels of his signature cowboy boots—completely incongruous here—clanking on the hardwood. “Yo, Cabana Boy,” he called over his shoulder. “Make yourself useful and grab us a couple of beers, why don’t ya?”

Jensen shot him another apologetic look then followed, and Jared decided right then that he hated Steve Carlson. He hated everything about him: the hipster scarf he wore on a tropical island, his insipid Top 40 ballads, his hair. Everything.

He leaned deep into the refrigerator for a minute, eyes closed, the blush on his face at the point of combustion, then quickly started arranging a tray, placing two bottles of the local Turks Head beer and two Espian lagers on ice with some glasses and some small bowls of cassava chips, and olives, and those extra-hot wasabi nuts Jensen liked.

He carried the tray out to the poolside and placed it on the low table between the two men, nodding curtly at Jensen’s whispered thanks, then went back in to rush through his last few cleaning tasks. He steeled himself for one more trip outside with a refill of snacks and an unobtrusive inquiry if the guests needed anything else and, finally, was free to escape. He left through the front door of the villa, but ducked around the side of the building, not bothering with the regular path. The sugar-sand dune was covered in sea grape and Jared clambered down it onto the beach out of sight of Jensen’s deck. The afternoon wind whisked in a straight line off of the sea, swirling inside his uniform shirt and flinging his hair around his face.

The calls of the gulls were loud here, his sandals sinking deep into sand yards away from the hard pack near the surf. Jared sat, wrapped his arms around his knees. It was insane. He’d been the one striving to maintain distance from Jensen, to stay mindful of how very, very out of Jared’s league he was. So how could Jared turn around and be jealous of something that would never be his?

One of the resort’s sailboats rode the nearby waves, tinny wafts of music rolling off of it, a handful of guests drinking and dancing on the deck. 

He lay back, like Jensen had by the villa’s pool the day before, and looked up at the transparent blue bowl above. He thought perhaps he would just stay out here, would dig a pit in the sand to the center of the earth, would dive into the waves and swim out to sea forever.

Instead, he stood up, dusted the sand off of his ass, and went to tell JD he’d need an additional meal to take up with him to the Shambhala for dinner.

Later, a gaggle of girls ambushed him while he was eating at the dorm’s common room table. 

“Did Steve Carlson really come to see Jensen?” “Did you meet him?” “What was he like?” “Is he gay?” “Is he bi?” “Is he staying long?” “Is Steve going to be Jensen’s Summer Fling?”

Jared kept chewing.

“Ladies, ladies!” James pushed his way through to sit on the bench seat next to Jared, clapping him on the shoulder companionably. “You know Jared by now: never one to talk out of class. You won’t get answers here.” Jared appreciated the help, for all of three seconds. “Of course,” James went on, “if you look closely, you might perceive that his eyes have turned a shade greener than usual, so I’d wager he’s a bit put out for having to share His Majesty with another guy.”

Jared rolled his traitorous eyes in a show of disdain for all of them and cleared his plate to the sink.

~~~~~

  


  


[ ](http://s37.photobucket.com/albums/e57/deirdre_c/unmakethebed/?action=view&current=July_15.png)

  


When Jared arrived the next morning, Stark informed him—after Jared had paid with the day’s installment of pistachios—of a change in routine. Jensen was out jogging on the beach.

“What about Steve?”

“Carlson?” Stark made a face. Apparently he had no better opinion of Jensen’s guest than Jared did. “He turned around and left last night just before midnight. Had the boat take him back to the main island to catch a charter flight to California. I guess he only had time for a quick visit, and the prince—” Stark swallowed whatever he was planning to say. “Well, the prince went for a run.”

“Alone?”

“No. Alex is with him. He stayed beyond his usual time this morning.” 

So with the thought-provoking news that Steve had not spent the night after all, Jared carried the fresh linens inside and set to work, humming. It was nice having the place to himself, he didn’t have to worry the sound of vacuuming would bother Jensen as he worked. He didn’t have to worry about evidence of Carlson moving in to be Jensen’s newest lover. 

He decided to reverse his regular order, start in the master bath, so that when Jensen returned Jared would be out of his way. But, even though he rushed through his checklist of wiping surfaces and replacing towels, he hadn’t quite finished when he heard the bedroom door open. 

“Hello,” Jared called, to give warning of his presence.

He poked his head out just in time to see Jensen stride in, sweat-wet, stripping his damp t-shirt over his head and tossing it on the foot of the still-unmade bed. Jared stared, wide-eyes feasting on broad shoulders, lean biceps, the smooth, toned chest that Jared remembered from covertly watching Jensen across the beach last summer, noticeably dusted with tiny freckles that couldn’t be seen from afar. Jared's gaze shifted lower to the fine, dusky path of hair that trailed from beneath Jensen’s navel past the sweat-darkened waistline of running shorts. The heat of embarrassment rushed to his cheeks when he looked back at Jensen’s face and knew he’d been caught.

“I’m going to jump in the shower,” Jensen said, and then smirked wickedly, eyebrows raised. “Want to join me?”

Jared felt his heart stop. He didn’t know what to do, what to say. Jared couldn’t tell if he was kidding, if Jared was supposed to laugh it off. 

His dismay must have shown on his face, because Jensen instantly retreated a few steps back, holding his hand out and waving it like a white flag, or as if he was trying to erase from the air what he’d just said. 

“God, I’m sorry. That was completely inappropriate. I don’t know what I was thinking, Shit, I _wasn’t_ thinking,” Jensen said urgently. He snatched his dirty shirt back up and held it in front of his chest, in a ridiculous attempt at modesty. “I know that’s not… that you wouldn’t—”

This wasn’t the first time Jared had encountered a guest in a state of undress, although it was the first time he’d ever been propositioned. He decided to focus on the former and ignore the latter—at least until he had a private moment to beat himself up for being a coward and a fool—so he fell back on formality. 

“No, no, it’s my fault, sir. I shouldn’t have been in here when I knew you’d be coming back soon. Excuse me, I’ll just give you some privacy.” He gathered up his things, but stopped, confounded by the fact that Jensen was still blocking the doorway. 

Jensen realized the problem and jerked aside, allowing Jared to scurry out, hunched carefully around his cleaning supplies so that he didn’t brush up against Jensen by accident.

When Jared left later that morning, the office door was closed, and there was no parting question.

~~~~~

Jared walked slowly up the hill carrying lunch, pretending that he wasn’t stalling. Unfortunately, he’d had plenty of time while working on the Elysium villa to think about the scene in Jensen’s bedroom. He didn’t blame Jensen for the proposition; in fact, it was much more like the Prince Jensen he’d been expecting all along. But would Jensen be angry now? Would he be irritated Jared had refused an offer that thousands of people would give their right hands for a chance at? Would Jensen retaliate by getting Jared transferred for the rest of the month? Jared’s heart sank at the prospect.

Jensen was waiting in the kitchen when he arrived. “I hope you’ll allow me to apologize more properly for—”

“Your Highness, there’s no need—”

“Jared, please.” The tone of Jensen’s voice wasn’t angry, it was imploring. Jared snuck a peek at Jensen’s face, stunned at the concern he read there. “I… You… We’d been doing so well. I felt like maybe we’d been, I don’t know, becoming friends?” 

He looked at Jared for agreement, and Jared couldn’t help but nod.

“Seems like most of the people I think of as ‘friends’ are like Steve,” Jensen said bitterly. “You know why he came here yesterday?” 

Jared shook his head, still at sea.

“He’s got a tour coming up, and ticket sales are low. He wanted me to make some kind of scene with him, leak some compromising pictures to the paparazzi, to see if he couldn’t generate a little extra publicity.”

“And that’s why he left?” Jared asked. “Because you said no?”

It was Jensen’s turn to nod. “I told him I was taking it easy right now, trying to figure some things out. That I’m avoiding any more celebrity. He told me, if that was the case, he didn’t need me anymore.” Jensen looked away, jaw clenched. “We’ve been friends since we were teenagers.”

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” Jared blurted out. It sounded stupid; words were easy, feeble. But Jared couldn’t let Jensen’s story stand unanswered.

“I didn’t think so,” Jensen replied. 

Jared couldn’t find anything more to say, confused as to why Jensen had told him all this in the first place, so he slipped around the kitchen island to prepare lunch, watching Jensen head out to the veranda out of the corner of his eye. 

Friends. What a strange thought.

Under the cover on the tray was couscous topped with sliced grilled chicken, and Jared had just started collecting silverware and plates from the cupboards when he heard a noise from outside, a strangled curse. He spun and glanced through the window, amazed to see Jensen surrounded by a swirl of white paper. Apparently he had moved his work out to the veranda, laptop open on the teak table, reading spread all around, and hadn’t anticipated the maliciousness of the island breeze.

Leaving lunch strewn on the counter, Jared ran outside to Jensen’s rescue. Jensen was dashing around, grabbing at stray sheets, trying to keep them from being blown over the railing. Jared plucked a few out of the closest oleander bush, but when he stooped down to pick up a stack that had come to rest at the foot of a lounge chair they scattered under another burst of wind, sending him stumbling. He heard Jensen laugh behind him, so he tossed a glare over his shoulder. “Just trying to help.”

“I can see that,” Jensen called, stomping on a fluttering sheet to pin it down, then crying, “Oh no!” as the strongest gust yet sent a great pile of paperbacks skidding off of the table, three of them tumbling towards the pool. Jared leaped forward to save the books at the same time Jensen did and they collided, Jensen bouncing off of Jared’s chest, clutching at his shirt for balance, sending both of them toppling into the pool’s deeper end. 

Jared came up sputtering, searching anxiously for Jensen until he saw him pop up a half-second later, wiping water from his face, wearing a huge grin. “You alright?”

“Yes,” Jared replied, pushing his hair back out of his eyes. “The only thing hurt is my pride.”

Jensen laughed. “Definitely! I’m just thankful no one was videoing that. It would’ve gone viral on YouTube in a heartbeat.”

Jared shook his head. Of course that would be the main concern in Jensen’s world. He swam over to the side and hefted himself up and out. He turned to see if Jensen needed help, and found him still treading water, staring. “I, um,” he looked down at himself, his black uniform shorts and shirt twisted around and clinging awkwardly, water running in streams down his legs. “I’m going to have to go change.”

“Sure, yes, go on.” Jensen ducked under the surface. He came up nearer to where Jared was standing, but didn’t make a move get out. “I’ll take care of lunch myself.”

“What about the rest of the papers?” Jared asked, scanning the veranda to see if there were still some preparing their escape.

“Don’t worry. I can take care of them too, if we missed any. You can just come back this evening. Now go get dried off.”

It felt wrong leaving Jensen in such disarray, but Jared wasn’t sure how helpful he could be soaking wet. He said goodbye, figuring he would pay his dues in the mockery he’d take from Stark on the way out.

~~~~~

That night, after dinner dishes were done and Jared finished his other small chores—refilling soaps and restocking the office printer with more well-behaved paper—Jensen leaned back in his desk chair. “I feel like I still owe you for the accidental swim. How about this time you _ask_ one question before you go.”

Unprepared for this twist in their routine, Jared’s mind scampered for a response. _Favorite color?_ So lame. _What do you want to be when you grow up?_ Not exactly applicable. He already felt like he knew so much about Jensen, and not from his press coverage or from following his publicity so closely in the past years, but from the day-to-day rhythms of the past week: Jensen’s stories, the way he buttered toast. Nothing seemed to make sense to ask.

Finally, Jared resolved the one thing he wanted to know most, and screw it if it was not as impersonal as it ought to be. “Why do you never leave the villa? I’ve watched you the past couple of summers, all the time, having fun out there—” Jared waved a hand in the direction of the resort proper and the beach. _Oh good, you don’t sound like a stalker at all,_ he thought. “But this year, you’ve barely set foot outside.”

Jensen didn’t say anything, just looked at Jared like he was reading a message tattooed across the bridge of his nose. Jared backpedaled, “Never mind, you don’t have to—” 

“No. It’s okay,” Jensen said. “Honestly? I’m hiding out here.” He looked down, tapping idly at the space bar on his laptop keyboard, a staccato _click-click_ like a Morse code distress call. “My mother died a few months ago unexpectedly of a brain aneurysm.” He said it with care, studiously composed. 

This, Jared reminded himself, was why he should just shut up and stay professional. He’s not the only one who can be hurt. “I read about it,” he said. “I’m so very sorry.” 

“Thank you,” Jensen said. “It’s been… difficult. But that’s just the beginning. Espian’s king, my grandfather. Well, let’s just say he has always disapproved of my ‘wild ways.’ And let’s say that I’ve gone out of my way over the years to fling them in his face.”

Some of Jensen’s more controversial interviews, his celebrity escapades, flashed through Jared’s mind. He thought about the questionable half-and mostly-naked pictures of Jensen circulating on the internet; Jared had to admit he’d downloaded plenty of those himself. Also, those stories of all-night parties broken up by the police, an orgy at a London strip club, trashed hotel rooms in Hong Kong. Stops for reckless driving, whispers of him being drunk or on drugs at the time.

“I would do something stupid, Grandfather would be furious,” Jensen continued, “and so I would do something worse the next time. Typical attention seeking.” He took a deep breath. “It turns out Mamma had been running interference with him for me, all these years. And now that she’s gone, he’s decided that it’s not a good idea for someone as irresponsible and reckless as I am to be in the line of succession for the throne. He has announced that he’s planning to disinherit me.”

“No.” It burst out of Jared like an arm thrown up to ward off a blow.

“Yes, well, I don’t know if he will, if he can. That’s one thing I’ve been working on so industriously every day, with the help of some legal advisors. That, and shifting my personal financial assets around, just in case. My brother, who is heir apparent now that my mother is gone, supports me. I have a good deal of public opinion on my side. I just don’t know.” He shook his head. “I’m also writing to my grandfather—he’s not taking my calls—a manifesto of sorts. Trying to compose a defense for myself, why he should permit me to stay in the family, outlining plans for my future and the future of the monarchy, assurances of good behavior, apologies for bad. It’s not a fun thing to write. In the meantime, I thought it would probably be a good idea to lie low for a while, so… no Flings, no late nights. No paparazzi, no pictures with Steve Carlson breaking up a club or drunk on the beach. I’m just staying inside, out of sight, and keeping my head down.” 

Jensen fell silent then and stood up to look out the window at the lush evening sunlight fading over the water, turning it to velvet, purple as a field of violets. He stared out for a few seconds, then bowed his head and brought a hand up over his eyes.

“I love my grandfather.” Jensen's voice thinned near to breaking. “He was my idol growing up, but all I’ve done is disappoint him, over and over. And I love Espian, god, so much. I don’t even know how it came to this.” 

“I’m so sorry,” Jared said again, heart wrung at the wounded curve of Jensen’s spine, and, instinctively, he stepped forward, reached out to lay a hand on Jensen’s shoulder in comfort. He heard and felt Jensen’s sharp intake of breath at the familiarity, but then Jensen’s hand came up and covered his, gripping it like a lifeline.

~~~~~

Jared didn’t usually go to the staff parties when Gen wasn’t available, but that night he definitely needed something to keep his mind from endlessly replaying the scene in Jensen’s office.

He was hanging out with Dulé, nursing a cup of doctored lemonade and listening to Dulé spin a story about his Spring Break in Mexico, when Zach walked by, white smile glinting in the dim light. “Hey, Dulé. Hey, Jared. How’s everything?”

Jared looked up, surprised. He couldn’t remember the last time Zach stopped to talk to either of them.

Zach plopped down on the lounge chair next to Jared and threw an arm around his shoulders. He smelled like coconut and maraschino cherries, his thick, dark hair curling up under the edges of the baseball cap he wore.

“Just between you and me, Jare,” Zach leaned in close. “What’s up with Prince Jensen this year? Everybody’s talking, but no one seems to have the real scoop. You’re our inside guy, you’ve gotta have some kind of intel.”

Jared inched sideways, just far enough away to mute the fucked-up alarm bells that went off, urging him to run from this kind of unexpected close contact, but not so far that Zach would think he wasn’t interested.

Because he was certainly interested. Hell, it was his first real chance to impress this guy, make Zach feel like he was special, maybe make him think _Jared_ was special. But everything roiling around in his mind about Jensen just seemed too big, too confidential, too personal to share with anyone.

“Sorry, man,” Jared said. “He’s… really reclusive. Stays in his room most of the time.” Which was technically true, if you took all the days so far this summer and averaged them. “Not much to tell.”

Zach shrugged and pulled away, hopped briskly to his feet. “Can’t blame a guy for trying!” He smiled straight at Jared then looked over at Dulé to include him in it, and walked off toward the crowd milling around the diving board.

“That was weird,” Dulé said placidly.

“It’s been a weird day,” Jared replied.

~~~~~

  


  


[ ](http://s37.photobucket.com/albums/e57/deirdre_c/unmakethebed/?action=view&current=July_19.png)

  


Thursday was much like any other day at Paradiso, except that it happened to be Jared’s 21st birthday, and he knew he wasn’t getting out of some high-octane hazing at the staff party that night. Jared half wished he could figure out some way to skip it, but because there were only a handful of people whose birthdays fell during the time on the island, everyone used them as an excuse to party harder.

He thought about mentioning it to Jensen, but couldn’t figure out a natural way to bring it up without sounding like a jerk.

Dulé had to work clean-up crew that night, so he took off for the Commons early. That left James and Gen the job of dragging Jared out sometime around 10pm. 

The minute they arrived, people started calling out Jared’s name, both friends and people he didn’t even know, waving him over and handing him celebratory shots of locally-made rum, scorching, overproof stuff straight out of the still. 

The first five went down in quick succession to shouts of “Happy Birthday, Bitch” and chants of “Drink, drink, drink,” Jared coughing and sputtering at the burn of each one. Dani dragged him aside after that, laughing at him to slow down, but someone—Alona maybe?—brought out a cake that was supposed to be shaped like Bigfoot, but failed miserably in a shapeless lump of chocolate fondant, and everyone sang as more shots were shoved into his hands, tiny little glasses that got lost in his palm and the liquor lost down his throat until he stumbled over to a chair by the pool and stared into the whirling illuminated blue of the water. 

Chad was playing DJ as usual—Mento and Dominican merengue that night—which naturally led to dancing, and for the first time since high school, when Gen grabbed him by the wrist with a lascivious, “C’mon, birthday boy,” he didn’t hesitate, simply waded right in and joined the casual throng stirring back and forth in a stew of bodies. After a few minutes he lost Gen—she was just so _tiny_ —but never lacked for dance partners, girls, guys, singles, pairs, friends and people he barely recognized, most of whom seemed to spend a lot of time copping a feel under the guise of trying to hold him upright. 

His head spun and his skin tingled from the touch of so many hands, but instead of alarming him, the anonymous contact made him hot. Maybe tonight he would take the plunge, just hook up with someone random and make sure he didn’t spend another birthday a virgin. Check it off the list, monkey off the back. 

The image of Jensen stripping off his sweaty shirt popped up, bright and beautiful, in Jared’s brain, and he savored it for a minute before sensibly putting it aside. He craned his neck to scan above the crowd. Where was Zach? He’s pretty sure he saw Zach arrive at some point in the evening. Maybe Zach would be up for giving him a quick pity fuck as a birthday gift. He looked out over the surge of dancers, but the rest of the Commons seemed to blur into light and shadow.

Weaving his way out from among the throng and toward the bathroom, Jared kicked at a few cups that once had held some of the gin and coconut water sitting in a vat on the bar, thinking how glad he was that he wasn’t Dulé or the other clean-up crew that night, because he couldn’t imagine reaching down to pick up anything without falling over.

He squinted at the restroom door to make sure he was going in the men’s and not the women’s room, then shouldered it open. Inside, it took him a couple of tries to unbutton his fly, but then he was pissing, wobbling only slightly as he rested his forehead on the tile above the urinal. 

Leaning there, he heard someone, two someones, stumble in through the bathroom door. It was Zach—of course it was Zach—with Osric, who was a surprise. They were tied at the lips, hands roaming, mouths moaning, and Zach unzipped half-in and half-out of the first bathroom stall, urging Osric down onto his knees like he didn’t even notice Jared was there. 

But then Zach caught Jared’s eye in the mirror over the sinks. Caught Jared staring, dumb and hungry. 

“Jare,” he mouthed, licking his lips and tilting his head in invitation. “C’mere.”

Osric had Zach’s dick in his mouth now, but Zach’s gaze never broke from Jared’s, just turned hotter, lids heavier. It was embarrassing how fast Jared got turned on, his own breath quickening, blood rushing to his cock, at the wet sounds Osric was making. 

Zach was still looking at Jared as he reached a hand down to cup Osric’s head and stop his rapid bobbing. “Hey man,” he said nonchalantly, finally looking down. “Can Jared join us? You can suck him off instead while I fuck you.”

Osric turned, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and looked Jared up and down. “Hey there, Jared. Sure. Yeah.”

Jared hesitated, swaying slightly. _What are you waiting for?_ , he scolded himself. _Why not just go over and take that? They’re both hot, and they want you. It’s what you were looking for, right? Monkey off the back?_

But then images of Jensen once again tumbled through his mind: by the pool or just rolled out of bed or shirt off and offering Jared a shower. Jared looked back at the scene in front of him and a single word rang in his ears. _No._

~~~~~

Jared didn’t consciously decide to head toward Shambhala. Perhaps he was just so used to walking the route three times a day that, in his drunken haze, his feet turned that direction automatically. Perhaps it was some other impulse, one that had been lurking, waiting for the precise moment when Jared’s defenses were at their weakest. Either way, he shuffled along the path, eyes half-closed, the thrum of the surf beating in time with his pulse, until suddenly the villa loomed in front of him.

He’d almost forgot Alex would be there until he stood up from the low seat, finger stuck between pages of his book to hold the place, eyebrows raised in surprise. “Hey, Jared. What’re you doing here?”

Jared straightened himself, took a deep breath through his nose, and prayed he wouldn’t noticeably slur his words. “Just a social visit. Is… is Jensen still awake?” Jared didn’t even know what time it was.

Alex’s eyebrows rose even higher, if that was possible, but he nodded slowly and replied, “Pretty sure. You can go ahead and knock.” He tilted his head toward the door.

Jared headed straight for it, a surge of adrenaline briefly diluting the alcohol sloshing through his veins. For the first time that summer, he had to knock at this door rather than just walk right in. So he did, knocked, and moments later Jensen answered.

“Jared?” Before him was his favorite version of Jensen, mussy and relaxed, sloppy in his loose sweats and worn gray t-shirt, this intimate version Jared liked to believe few other people ever had the privilege of seeing.

“So, I was thinking,” Jared rushed, certain that he would chicken out if he didn’t say it without hesitation. “Thinking you should sleep with me. You don’t have a Summer Fling with you and I’m right here, con—conveniently.” He tripped over the word but barreled onward. “You can trust me. You won’t have to worry about word getting out, or paparazzi, or whatever. You could have me, I’d do anything you want.” 

“What the hell?” Jensen said, then looking with alarm over Jared’s shoulder, grabbed him by the arm and pulled him inside, which was a way better reaction than the amused set-down or slammed door or punch in the face that Jared had half-expected. 

Jared stumbled in. His head felt poorly anchored to his neck, as though it might tumble off. He had to prop himself against the wall for support, but tried to make it look sexy. “What do you say? You could be the one to pop this cherry.” He stretched his arms out wide, almost over-balancing.

“How much have you had to drink?” Jensen demanded. He looked both perplexed and dismayed, but not at all turned on. Jared should have known this was an idiotic idea.

“It’s my birthday,” Jared offered apologetically, figuring this was a good time to bring it up. “People drink on their birthdays.”

“Yeah,” Jensen replied, “but there’s drinking and then there’s alcohol poisoning. Believe me, I have plenty of first-hand experience.” He turned away and walked down the hall toward the kitchen.

Jared followed after him, still leaning one shoulder on the wall, dragging himself along. “I ran into Zach at the party tonight,” he called. “He was pretty busy getting it on with some guy in the bathroom.”

“Oh. That’s too bad.” Jensen didn’t look up from filling a glass of water at the sink. He didn’t look that sympathetic.

“No, you don’t understand. When I saw them together, I even didn’t care. I didn’t think ‘How I wish that was me and Zach.’ My only thought was ‘How I wish that was me and Jensen.'” He buried his face in his hands. “So I guess now’s when you realize I’m one of the twenty-two million other people on the planet who’s been in love with you for years.” 

He felt a tug on his wrist and looked up through his fingers to see Jensen holding out a glass in front of his face. “Drink this.”

“Am I harassing you? I am. I’m harassing you. I’m trying to get you to fraternize.” Jensen held the glass up to Jared’s lips until he had no choice but to take a sip, so Jared obliged. Then he repeated, “Fraternization.” It just rolled off his tongue. “That’s against the rules, you know. Sera’s probably going to fire me. You should make Sera fire me.”

Jensen pressed the glass into his hands and ordered, “Keep drinking.” He guided Jared over to the couch and eased him down on it. Jared concentrated on not spilling the glass and not throwing up. 

He drained the rest of the water, because that was the only thing he could think of doing right now that would make Jensen despise him a little less. The couch cushions dipped as Jensen sat down next to him, and Jared’s balance was so screwed that just that small change in stability sent him swaying, tilting, falling toward Jensen, practically landing in his lap. He tried to scramble away, but his limbs were heavy and uncontrollable. “Sorry,” he moaned into Jensen’s shoulder. “Fuck. Sorry. I’m such an asshole.”

“Hey,” Jensen said softly. “It’s okay.” 

He maneuvered himself and Jared somehow so that they were sitting side-by-side, Jared slouched low, legs sprawled out in front of him, body kind of snuggled up under Jensen’s arm. They sat there in silence for a while, Jared breathing in the warm scent of Jensen’s aftershave, trying to get his shit together. The lights under the kitchen cabinets cast quiet pools of gold, and he let himself be held by Jensen and drift, seasick and lovesick combined.

“I’m just tired of being scared.” He whispered it, as if he wasn’t sure he wanted Jensen to hear.

“Scared of what?” Jensen whispered back.

“I was… some guys attacked me at a party a few years back. My first week of college.” Jensen was silent, but his arm tightened around Jared’s shoulders. “Held me down and… and it screwed with my head pretty bad.”

“That would screw with anyone’s head,” Jensen said mildly, like it was no big deal. He pulled Jared down so that he rested on Jensen’s shoulder, and Jensen whispered again, this time breathing into Jared’s hair like a caress. “Did they hurt you?”

Jared felt all his muscles tense. He hadn’t told anyone but the psych counselor at school about the incident, tried not to think about it, label it specifically. Besides, he’d kept all his clothes on, walked out of there in one piece. But. 

“Maybe? Kind of. Not really. It’s just—since then—” Even drunk, he couldn’t explain it. “I’ve never had sex with anyone before.” He held his breath, unsure what Jensen’s reaction would be. A drunk, damaged virgin. Yeah, Jared must seem like a real prize.

“Fuck,” Jensen growled softly. “I wish I could find them, or hell, go back in time, and kick the shit out of them. Or better yet, have Alex kick the shit out of them while you and I watch.”

Jared huffed a little laugh, the last thing he thought he’d do during this kind of conversation. He really loved Jensen for that. And then it came into focus so sharply Jared’s surprised it didn’t sober him up instantly. He was in love with Jensen. Not just the Prince Charming of his dreams, but this guy right here. 

“I don’t need that,” Jared said. “I just want someone to fix me. I want _you_ to fix me.” What liquid courage he had tonight.

“Jared. I—I’m not always a good person. I want to be. I want to be that for you, but… But I can’t do magic.” 

“I think you can.”

He could feel Jensen smile against the top of his head. “Of course you do.”

“Please, Jensen.” He pried his eyelids open and leaned away to peer up into Jensen’s face, saw what looked like fondness, maybe like desire, Jared wasn’t sure, but it wasn’t _no_. 

“Can we?” he asked, and started to fumble at the buttons on his shirt. 

“No.” There it was. But Jensen didn’t leave it at that. He sat up, twisting around to face him and covering hands over hands to stop Jared’s attempt to get naked. “Not like this. Come back tomorrow night, sober, and ask me again,” he said, then added, “if you still want to.”

He stood and hauled Jared up to his feet. Jared stood swaying for a moment, watching the room tumble in front of his eyes and trying to remember how to communicate with his feet. Jensen slipped Jared’s arm around his shoulders and started shepherding him back to the door. 

On the way, Jared leaned in closer. Jensen smelled so damn good. He tried to be sneaky about it, pretend to need a little more help than he did, just to press in closer, but finally he gave up the feeble attempt at subtle turned his face to nuzzle Jensen’s neck. Warm and damp, Jensen’s pulse fluttering against his lips.

“Alex,” Jensen called as he opened the door one-handed. “Would you please escort Jared back to the employee residence?”

Alex was there in an eye-blink, which was just as well, because Jared’s legs were about to go out from under him. He was passed from prince to bodyguard as casually as a discarded overcoat, Alex half-carrying Jared away down the path.

They walked along in silence for a few yards. Well, human silence, since the night was incredibly noisy, but the piping sounds of thousands of tree frogs was an accustomed background sound, as ordinary and unremarkable a part of the Paradiso night as the _slap-slap-slap_ of the tide. “It’s a good thing you’re tall,” Jared remarked, hoping to distract Alex from noticing that Jensen had pretty much kicked his sorry ass out.

“And it’s not such a good thing you’re so wasted, you ninny.” He hitched Jared’s arm a little higher over his shoulders. 

“Did you just say ‘ninny?’” Jared asked, giggling a little in a way he’s glad Jensen’s not there to hear. “Who says ‘ninny?’”

“I do. Shut up or I’ll dump you here in the bushes and leave you for the groundskeepers to find in the morning.”

“It’s my birthday, Alex, and I didn’t even get laid,” Jared said, mournfully. “Don’t leave me in the bushes.” Then his mind caught up with his mouth, and he resolved to shut the hell up for the rest of the trip back to the dorms. It was a good thing Alex had come with him, because he was pretty sure he’d never have found his way there on his own. 

Alex opened his dorm’s whitewashed wooden door and urged him inside. Jared bumped into several unexpected walls as he made his way upstairs. There may have been literal crawling as he finally got himself into his bunk, where he curled up in a fetal position and pulled the blanket up over his head, not at all enjoying the feeling of the room spinning and bobbing around him as if he were a dinghy being tossed in high seas.

~~~~~

  


  


[ ](http://s37.photobucket.com/albums/e57/deirdre_c/unmakethebed/?action=view&current=July_20.png)

  


If Tom stopped by or his alarm went off that morning, Jared didn’t hear it. He didn’t regain consciousness until Gen came and sat on the edge of his bed at seven, gently tugging the blankets down so she could reach to brush back the sweat-matted hair plastered to his forehead. Even then, consciousness may have been overstating it.

“Oh, baby,” she said, pity thick-lacing her words. “You reek.”

His only reply was a weak groan, his head pounding hard and deep like a slow-motion jackhammer, nausea rising up sour in the back of his throat.

“It’s time for first shift, but you’re seriously in no shape to go anywhere, are you? I already talked to Danneel and she and Julie will cover your rounds today. Dani's got morning, and, if you need it, Julie's got afternoon and evening. We’ll let Sera know you’re sick, you sleep it off.” She tucked three Advil into his palm, cupping his unresponsive fingers over them, urging it up toward his mouth. “Take these,” she crooned. “That’s a good boy.”

“Thanks, Gen,” he croaked. He couldn’t even sit up, just thrust the pills into his mouth and swallowed them dry, never daring to open his eyes as the bed did a jig under him. Between thoughts of what he’d done last night and prospects for the day, he kind of wished he had choked on his own vomit in his sleep.

He felt her straighten the bedding and rub his back a few times. Patting his shoulder, she said, “Get a shower when you can, J. It’ll make you feel better. Somebody’ll check in on you in a few hours.”

He nodded then regretted it, clutched the pillow closer and made sure she was gone before he whimpered into it, trying to suck in slow, deep breaths so that he wouldn’t heave up the pills and everything else left in his stomach with them. He’d been hung over before, but this was more like an arcane medieval torture. He couldn’t imagine ever getting out of bed again. 

But what would Jensen think when Jared didn’t show up with breakfast?

~~~~~

Darkness had finally fallen, and Jared stopped to lean against the wall of the dorm, pressing his cheek into the cool plaster, inhaling deeply. For a second he was dizzy, even though he wasn’t the least bit drunk any more. He had been, for most of the day, the alcohol in his blood only slowly leaching out as his friends made pilgrimages to his bedside with a steady offering of Gatorade and Alka Seltzer and crackers and concern, highlighted by James with a bacon sandwich and Adrianne with a weak-tea Bloody Mary that she insisted Jared choke down for the hair-of-the-dog remedy.

By dinnertime Jared had made it through his second long shower and third substantial nap and was feeling almost back to normal, well enough to join the others in the dining room to some well-deserved ribbing. And he was glad he faced that music, because it was the meal of JD’s seasoned fried chicken and cool cabbage slaw that finally put him over the top. He was feeling so well, in fact, that he had no excuse any longer to avoid thinking about last night, about Jensen, about the idiotic things Jared had said. But mostly he thought about how Jensen had held him close anyway and said, “Yes.” Or perhaps he’d said, “Maybe.” It was all a bit blurry, to be honest.

Either way, here he was, on his way back to Jensen’s door. Because he’d been told to come back tonight, and if this was his only chance, then, fuck nervousness and fuck the risk of being fired and fuck everything, he was going to take it. He pushed off the wall with his shoulder, setting out toward Jensen once more. The Milky Way made a soft avenue overhead, the moon so bright it threw his shadow—crisp-lined as a photo negative—onto the path before him.

It was like déjà vu, Alex standing to greet him.

“Thanks,” Jared said, low-voiced in the darkness. “For last night.”

“No problem, man. Glad to see you here.” Jared figured Alex meant that he didn’t expect to see him up and around, because his visit was as illicit tonight as it was last night. But since he didn’t want to outright acknowledge the reason he might be coming again to see Jensen at odd hours, he just nodded and hurried past.

Jensen answered the door almost immediately, as if he’d been waiting right on the other side. He didn’t say anything, just moved aside to let Jared enter. Jared walked down the hall, as usual, but from there it was all unfamiliar, slightly terrifying territory. He stepped into the living room and turned to face Jensen.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” Jensen said. “I thought… well. You didn’t show up to work today.” His voice sounded strange, pitched lower than usual. It set Jared’s nerves on edge, not that they needed the help.

“Sorry,” Jared said. “I was literally too sick to get out of bed.” 

“Hangover, huh? I guess that’s not a surprise.”

“The worst ever,” Jared replied, shrugging ruefully, but trying to make it no big deal. “I’m good now, though. I came up to see if I made a complete fool of myself. If you’re, I don’t know, mad or something.”

“Is _that_ what you came for?” Jensen asked coolly. Jared thought he was used to Jensen’s moods by now, but he could simply not read this one. “Why did you stop here last night, Jared? Why are you here now?” 

Jared didn’t know how to explain. There was part of him that wanted to move on from that fateful incident freshman year, to stake out a new, clean starting point in his memories. But more than that—much, much more—was Jensen, fascinating and gentle and unpredictable and gorgeous. Jared wanted to spend every waking minute with him, but since that wasn’t possible, he’d take whatever small portion Jensen was willing to bestow. 

Jensen pressed. “Most guys I hook up with, they’re interested in the notoriety. Hopping in bed with royalty, it’s a nice notch on the bedpost.”

“Yeah, don’t worry,” Jared said, “if I think too much about that, you’ll find me running in the opposite direction. I almost couldn’t bring myself to walk in here that first day.” Quieter, “I almost couldn’t walk in tonight.”

Jensen looked at him sharply, like this was a test Jared was on the brink of failing. At least that was what it felt like. “Then why? A few days ago I hit on you and, well, I didn’t—didn’t realize what had happened to you back then. But still, you looked at me like I was repulsive.”

“No! No, I never thought that,” Jared insisted, appalled. “I guess… I was scared, or I was so used to being scared that I forgot not to be. But now I’m not scared anymore.” He grasped for that insight, that confidence he’d felt last night. “It’s because I never really met anyone I felt I could trust before now, but I trust you.” 

Jensen crossed his arms over his chest. “Why on earth would you trust me? What’s going to stop me from hurting you, just like I hurt everyone else I fuck?” 

Jared flinched at the vulgarity, so unlike Jensen. And suddenly it clicked into place. Jensen wasn’t angry, he was trying to scare Jared off. But Jared had let himself be frightened for too long, the prize being offered now too precious not to grasp. 

“I don’t know.” He squared himself before Jensen, willing him to read in Jared’s eyes the things he couldn’t figure out how to say. “It’s gut instinct.”

“You know how it works with me, right? I tell every guy the same thing: at the end of the month—it’s over. We’re done. No strings attached.”

His Summer Fling. Jared’s throat tightened. He didn’t like the thought of an end, but it sure did sound like the promise of a beginning. He made himself swallow. “I know. I’ve heard that. I understand.”

They stood there in silence, balanced on an edge, until Jensen broke away in a flurry of movement, pacing stiffly back and forth between the couch and kitchen. “God, Jared. What am I thinking? I can’t do this, I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“I’m… You’re…” Jared watched him struggle for words. “I want to have sex with you. God knows that I’ve wanted it since you walked in here, hell, since I first saw you running on the beach however many summers ago. But now… Jared, I don’t want to hurt you, to be someone else who hurts you. To have you regret being with me.” He ran both hands through his hair. 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Jared said, heart soaring at the words, but also aware that his moment might be slipping away. He was determined to hang on, dig out the words that would persuade Jensen he might be inexperienced, but he wasn’t fragile, wasn’t going to cause any trouble. Jensen actually wanted him, after all. Nothing else mattered. “What would I have to regret? A night with you? It’s like—” He almost said, _every dream of mine come true_ , but choked that particular idiocy down, ending instead with, “—you’d be doing me a favor.”

“A favor?” Jensen stopped pacing and stared at him, one corner of his mouth curling up.

“Yeah,” Jared responded, chasing after that half-smile as fast as he could. “You know, showing me the ropes.”

“The ropes?” Jensen repeated again. “What, like, Jared Padalecki’s Sex Ed Summer School?”

“Something along those lines, yeah. I figure there’s no one more qualified to help me in that particular area.” Jared felt himself pinken, but kept going. Anything to lighten the mood, to keep Jensen from starting to pace again. “Professor,” he added.

That drew a genuine laugh. Then Jensen said, “Are you sure this is what you want? You’re really sure?” Jared nodded quickly. “Okay. Okay, you’re on.” Jensen reached over his shoulder to grab the neck of his tee, hauling it over his head. In that one smooth move, Jared felt the high color drain out of him. This wasn’t his reclusive guest or his unapproachable crush or even his friend. This was the Playboy Prince Jensen of Espian, suave, seductive, and oh so experienced. And Jared had just talked his way into being his lover. 

The butterflies that had been circling his stomach the whole way here tonight reappeared. Unthinking, Jared backed up slowly until he hit the wall behind him. Jensen advanced, equally slow, eyes hot. He flipped the shirt to the side, aiming for the nearby armchair, but it didn’t quite make it and slid onto the floor. 

Jared stared down at puddle of fabric, just so he could focus on something other than Jensen’s naked chest. “You know, I’m just going to have to clean that up in the morning.”

Jensen halted, thrown off, glanced over at the shirt and back at Jared. He raised his eyebrow, smile fond. “I swear, how are you even real?” It was the Jensen he knew again. 

As Jensen swayed toward him, Jared prepared for him to lean in for a kiss. But Jensen didn’t close the distance, didn’t reach for him. He was scanning Jared’s face, his gaze still fond, but searching. “Jared?”

Jared panicked for a moment, thinking he was already doing something wrong, but then insight struck. Jensen was waiting for him to give permission, to make the first move.

He made himself take a step away from the wall, up into Jensen’s space, heat radiating off of the skin of his sculpted chest. Jared’s hand felt ice cold, but he lifted it anyway and placed it on Jensen’s neck, then slid it over the smooth curve of bare shoulder and down his arm, circling Jensen’s wrist. “Please,” he said, whispering to keep his voice from squeaking. 

At that Jensen leaned up and met Jared halfway. His lips were soft and the kiss was sweet, almost chaste, just small movements of Jensen’s mouth under his. It was perfect, breathtaking, just that simple press of lips causing shivers to run from Jared’s head to toe. But Jared soon wanted, _needed_ , more, so he touched his tongue to the seam of Jensen’s mouth, asking for entrance. Jensen opened wide for him, pulling him closer with his hands on Jared’s waist, swallowing the soft moan Jared couldn’t contain. Their tongues brushed, twined, and he moaned again as Jensen turned the tables, slipping into Jared’s mouth to caress along the edge of his teeth, the tender ridges of his palate, tasting him, exploring him. Mouths met, parted, met again, harder, hungrier, and Jared couldn’t help but nip at Jensen’s plush bottom lip, sharp and unexpected. At Jensen’s gasp, he pulled back a fraction, eyes opening, finding green ones gazing back.

“Impressive,” Jensen murmured, the distance between Jared’s mouth and his paper-thin. “Not what I expected from a beginner.” He tightened his grip on Jared’s hips. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever been with a virgin before, not even my own first time. It’s a lot of pressure.”

Jared shrugged. “On the bright side, I won’t know whether you suck in bed or not.”

Jensen chuckled, “Oh, you’ll know. I promise,” as he crowded Jared back up against the wall. He put his hands on Jared’s shoulders, slid them up to his neck so that he was cupping Jared’s head, his thumbs along his jaw, and Jared couldn’t look away. “It’s gonna be great,” Jensen said, a bit more seriously, the tips of his fingers massaging lightly where they rested at the base Jared’s skull. “You just tell me what feels right and what doesn’t, okay?”

Jared tilted his chin, leaned farther back, almost purring like a cat as he tried to deepen Jensen’s touch. “Okay,” he sighed.

Jensen reached down to work at the top button of Jared’s linen shirt, the only piece of clothing he had on the island that wasn’t either part of his uniform or a ratty thrift-store buy. “Fast, slow, whatever. You change your mind, you tell me to stop, no big deal.” Third button, fourth, and the cool air of the room swept across Jared’s chest and belly as Jensen slipped the shirt back over Jared’s shoulders.

Jared wondered if he was visibly shaking, or if it was an imperceptible thing, this tremor in his heart, his limbs. 

Ignoring it, he slid his palm down between them, cupping his hand around Jensen’s dick, felt it there thick and hot and heavy. It was the first time he'd touched someone like that, and it was as scary as it was incredible. "I won’t be changing my mind."

Jensen’s eyes were dark, the corners slitted and amused. Jared watched the tip of pink tongue come out and wet his lips, and then he was pulling Jared to him again, bombarding him with rapid-fire kisses while herding him across the room and toward the bedroom. “Every time I lie down in that bed, I think about you, how you smooth your hands across the sheets, how I want to feel them on me.” He brushed his palms gently up and down Jared’s bare sides, raising goosebumps. Jared jerked under the touch.

“Ticklish?” 

“A little,” Jared said. “And maybe a little nervous,” he admitted.

“Don’t be. I’ll take care of you.” Jared hadn’t even noticed that they’d made it to the foot of Jensen’s bed, the gauzy linen usually draped up around the four-posters hanging down in semi-transparent sheets, shielding the interior. He spent a split-second being jealous that someone else had tended Jensen’s bedroom that day, but everything was driven from his head as Jensen unzipped his jeans and stepped out of them, the wide column filling up his black boxer briefs leaving little to Jared’s imagination. 

“C’mon, your turn.” Jensen reached out to slide his fingers along tender skin, just dipping under the waistline of Jared’s own underwear, until they met in the middle and deftly popped the button on his shorts. Jared’s abs quivered under Jensen’s hands, his gut and his knees both jelly. They hadn’t even started and he already felt like his bones were melting. 

As Jared’s shorts fell off his hips and slid to the floor, Jensen took Jared’s hand, crawling through the hanging fabric panels onto the bed, drawing Jared with him. Jensen let himself fall backward when he reached the pillows and pulled Jared down next him so they were lying together, cocooned in the silky-cool whiteness of the duvet, Jensen’s legs twined with his. 

For a while all they did was kiss. Wet, thorough kisses like Jared had never experienced—he’d had, in fact, a _few_ encounters before, false-starts and failures, nothing serious, nothing like this. Jensen licked past the corners of Jared’s mouth, to his chin, working his way up the line of his jaw to suck hard at his earlobe, sending a jolt through Jared that made his hips thrust forward uncontrollably. 

“God, you’re so hot, so sensitive,” Jensen murmured, his tongue rimming delicately, maddeningly around and around the shell of Jared’s ear, and Jared shivered to prove the point. “I can’t believe you’ve been letting all this go to waste.”

“Think of it—” Jared was panting now, head muzzy, but still wanted to hold up his end of the banter, “—think of it as saving for a special occasion.” The huff of Jensen’s breath sent another shiver through him. 

He took Jared’s hand and brought it up to his chest. “You want to know what I think feels good?” he asked, and guided Jared’s fingers under his so that they were rubbing Jensen’s nipple, together making small, firm circles and then brushing over the tight, brown nub. Jensen’s legs moved restlessly between Jared’s and he closed his eyes in pleasure. “Yeah. Like that.” 

His hand left Jared’s behind and he reached out to cup Jared’s pec, his fingers now mirroring Jared’s movements. Rub, flick, stroke, everything Jared did, Jensen copied, a feedback loop that had Jared squirming each time a spark shot through him from nipple to throbbing cock.

“Ah. Nice to know we share that.” He tipped Jared over onto his back and leaned over him. “Let’s try some others. Navel?” He slid his finger down the midline of Jared’s belly to press into the shallow dip, thrusting in and out gently in an imitation of what was to come. “Hip bone?” His hand moved left to skate over the hard point of Jared’s pelvis. “What about your balls?” Jensen’s warm palm cupped Jared’s sac through his underwear, tugging and rolling. 

Jared whimpered, hips arching up, chasing sensation. The way Jensen was touching him, as if Jared was something valuable, some secret that he needed to learn by heart. “Yes. All of it. Anything.”

Jensen looked straight into his eyes. “If you’re ready, I want to open you up, get you ready for me. You’re going to have to be patient. I’m—” the corner of Jensen’s mouth crooked up wryly. “I’m kind of large.”

Jared couldn’t help but snort and Jensen mock-frowned. “What’s funny?”

“Do you have any idea how much speculation there is on the internet about that very thing?”

“Well,” Jensen drawled, “as someone about to have first-hand knowledge, I’d prefer you neither confirmed nor denied. Mostly I’m worried that you’re still using four-syllable words. I’m pretty sure that means I’m not working hard enough.”

Jensen reached down and shoved his boxers off, squirming in a delightfully ungraceful way to kick them to the foot of the bed. “You ready?” he asked, and at Jared’s whispered, “Definitely,” he eased elastic carefully over Jared’s cock, letting it bob free of the cotton. Jensen got up on his knees to peel that last barrier all the way down Jared’s legs and toss them off the edge of the bed.

Rising above him, Jensen looked like a god: the solid curve of his shoulders, the arch of his ribs, the slimness of his hips, the strength of his thighs, his cock jutting up from between his legs, stiff and red. Jared saw that Jensen’s pubic hair was neatly trimmed and he tried not to feel self-conscious about his own thick, natural bush. 

“Hey,” Jensen said, catching Jared’s eye again. “Stay with me, okay?” He kept his gaze locked with Jared’s as he slipped a hand under one of the pillows and drew out a small bottle and a condom, setting them nearby on the blanket. “You want to let me in?” he murmured, the other hand brushing gently at Jared’s leg to coax him, so Jared cocked it to the side, presenting himself for whatever Jensen wanted to do.

“Yeah,” Jensen breathed. He reached out, caressed the inside of Jared’s thigh. Light, unhurried strokes from groin to knee, and no more than that had every nerve in Jared’s body dancing with energy. “A little more,” Jensen instructed, slipping a hand behind Jared’s knee and easing it farther up, wider, and then the other, shifting so that he knelt in the new-made space between Jared’s legs. He leaned down, hands on either side of Jared’s head, framing him, his body hovering over him but not touching. “What do you think?” 

“Good,” Jared said breathlessly, “more.” He flatted his feet on the mattress and thrust up, both of them gasping as their cocks ground together. And Jensen let his weight fall, pressing his full length along Jared’s body, Jared writhing under him, his skin burning everywhere they touched. 

“Okay,” Jensen agreed as he kissed him, “more it is.” He pushed back up again. “I think we need a review, dear pupil.” Bending his head to Jared’s chest, he licked a wet circle. “Nipple…” lower, he plunged his tongue deep into Jared’s bellybutton, “Navel…” he moved sideways, nipping with sharp teeth at the pale skin there, “Hip…” then, palms wide on Jared’s thighs, thumbs digging into muscle, he ducked lowest of all, “And…” suddenly Jensen took Jared’s entire tight, aching sac into his wet, wet mouth, sucking and tugging, the point of his tongue rubbing hard at the seam. It was too much, too intense, and orgasm exploded through Jared like a detonating bomb, his back arching off the bed, his mouth open in a silent scream, as his dick pumped streaks of come across his chest and stomach.

“Oh god.” Jared fell back to the mattress, quaking, shivers of hot and cold coursing through him. He brought his arms up across his face, humiliated. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Jensen.”

“Are you kidding?” He felt a gentle pull at his wrists, then harder, forcing his shield open. Jared hardly dared to look Jensen in the face, but when he did, Jensen wasn’t scornful, but beaming, animated. “You came. Just from my mouth on your balls alone. That’s _magnificent_. You’re amazing.” He leaned in to drop a swift kiss on Jared’s slack mouth, taking the corner of the sheet and gently wiping away the mess. “Besides, this will be easier now that you’re relaxed.”

Jared could barely comprehend what he was saying, but Jensen didn’t wait for a response. He felt around for the bottle he’d pulled out earlier, finding it and popping the cap, squirting a dollop of gel onto his fingers. His smile turned sinful. “You may not think so, but by the time I’m inside you, you’ll be begging to come all over again.” 

There was a slight touch of wet and cold on his ass, there and gone. Then again, slower this time, a careful circle around the rim of his hole. Jensen looked at him questioningly, and Jared nodded, so he pressed lightly, just enough to make the muscle clench, and eased away. A strange, warm lassitude spread over him as Jensen continued, touching, playing, no intrusion, no hurry, just a gentle massage, his free hand smoothing sweetly over Jared’s calf and ankle. Time stretched out, and Jared felt like he was dissolving into the bedding.

Then Jensen murmured, “You should turn over now,” nudging his hip, and immediately Jared tensed. The thought of being face down, of not being able to see that it was Jensen behind him. He still didn’t think he could handle that. 

“Can we—can’t I stay like this?” 

Jensen stilled and looked down at him, scanning his face. “Of course. Whatever you want.” He stretched over to grab a pillow from the head of the bed. “If we put this under you, you’ll be more comfortable, okay?” And when Jared lifted up, Jensen slipped the pillow under his hips. “Now,” he said, “where were we?”

Jared felt odd, more exposed than before, his head having cleared a bit and his thighs obliged to spread, his cock put on display by the angle on the pillow. But as Jensen scooted even nearer, the flats of his thighs tucking under Jared’s legs, he leaned forward and said, “You can touch me, you know.” It turned out that was all the distraction Jared needed. His hands immediately palmed Jensen’s chest, smoothed over his shoulders, and when he scratched nails lightly down Jensen’s back as far as he could reach, the resulting moan sent a shot of heat through him. Jensen’s skin had a light sheen of sweat and Jared realized he wasn’t quite as in control as he appeared.

“C’mon,” Jared urged him. “I’m ready for the main event.”

So Jensen got some more lube and his fingertip pressed at Jared’s entrance again, but this time it didn’t stop, easing in and in, a heavy, solid intrusion. Jared shifted, squirmed, knees automatically trying to close. Jensen stilled, leaving his finger deep inside Jared and leaned down to kiss him, nibbling at his lips, tongue sweeping into his mouth. Jared reached up to palm Jensen’s cheek, pulling him still closer, desperate to ground himself.

Jensen’s finger moved slowly then, not pulling out, just a slight back and forth, crooking upwards a little. It brushed something that tingled, then sparked, hot and white, Jared jerking at the feel of it. Jensen hummed and pressed a little harder the next time, his finger playing with Jared like the key of an instrument. Jared jerked as he tried to catch the rhythm Jensen was setting. Every time he brushed against that spot, Jared was pawing at the sheets. “Jensen, please, please. I need—I, please.” 

“Shhh,” Jensen crooned, soft and drawn out, like he wasn’t really listening, like he was too busy taking Jared apart. His finger now moved in and out, long strokes deep inside, and then he added another, his unoccupied thumb pressing up against the underside of Jared’s balls. Before Jared could adjust, he felt Jensen’s other hand wrap around his cock, and it was like a kick square to the chest. He gasped for breath, flailing uncontrollably as Jensen’s hand tightened, wrist twisting, the fingers inside him spreading wide. It was too much, the sting of the stretch competing with the sparks jolting along his nerves. 

“I can hardly get two fingers in, Jared. Jesus, you’re so tight,” Jensen said in an undertone.

Then suddenly he could imagine it, the feel of Jensen’s cock pushing into him, his body opening up to let Jensen in. He wanted it, wanted to be filled up, wanted to hold Jensen inside of him. “Hurry. Don’t make me wait.” 

When Jensen took his hands away, Jared almost cried. He bit his lip, watching as Jensen fumbled for the condom packet, ripping it open with his teeth. “You want to help?” Jensen asked, holding it out, and Jared sat up a little, dizzy, taking the tiny, slippery roll with shaking fingers.

He was pretty sure it wasn’t going to fit as he stared at Jensen’s cock standing erect up against his belly, even larger than advertised. Jared reached gingerly out to hold Jensen in one hand, resting the condom against the head. When Jensen inhaled sharply, his cock jerking in Jared’s grip, he looked up quickly to Jensen’s face but it wasn’t pain written there, so Jared pushed at the condom cautiously, smoothing it down as gently as he could, Jensen so stiff in his hand he could’ve been made of iron. 

Jared fell back onto the mattress, mission accomplished, and spread his legs wide once more. He grabbed his own hard dick, closed his eyes, and squeezed. He probably looked ridiculous, but he didn’t care, needing some kind of pressure, some anchor point.

He thought he heard Jensen growl, and then he was on him again, and oh _fuck_. Jared rocked up against Jensen, instinct taking over. He wrapped his legs high around Jensen’s middle, whining in the back of his throat.

"Easy, easy. Just, let me…" There was the slick sound of more lube, then Jensen’s broad hands, hot and heavy on Jared’s hips, curling them farther upward so that his thighs pressed against his chest, Jensen’s soft hitched breathing, and finally, _finally_ , the head of Jensen’s cock pushing into him. 

It was inexorable, a liquid burn. Jared almost laughed at how he’d dreamed about this for so long, because the dreams couldn't compare to the overwhelming reality. What he'd imagined was a silent black-and-white movie, but reality was a surround-sound panorama in Technicolor. The first searing thrust alone drove the air from Jared’s lungs, but Jensen just kept bearing down, slow, inevitable rolls of his hips working him deeper and deeper until he thought Jensen might split him apart.

It might have gone on for hours, for forever, Jensen sinking into him, forging a passage into Jared’s flesh, every inch he conquered, Jared gladly ceding. He’d always thought, when this time came, that he’d have to steel himself to suffer through it, distance himself from the act. Instead he felt more present, more alive, just _more_ , than he ever had before.

Finally, Jensen stilled, trembling, his balls pressed to Jared’s ass, his cock fully buried. His voice came hot and quiet from above, “I know it hurts right now, but I’m right here with you. Tell me—tell me when to move.” 

Jared opened his eyes, surprised to feel he was tensed all over, muscles tight and refusing to unwind. The pain was there, yes, but it wasn’t the important thing. He gazed up at Jensen, and the look in his eyes made something warm and heavy uncurl in Jared’s stomach. He was doing this, they were doing this. He didn’t want to wait. 

“Okay,” Jared said. “Now.”

Jensen breathed out shakily and he drew out slightly and then rocked back into Jared. Once, and then again, and it _was_ painful, until Jensen hit that spot, that one that seemed to be hotwired to Jared’s dick. Jared hissed, grabbing blindly at Jensen. “There. Right there.”

“Yeah?” Jensen said and did it again, just a shallow thrust of his hips, angle changing and Jared had to bite down hard on his lip to keep from shouting. Jensen had found the very essence of him, the bright sear of stretching transformed to a red glow, still ember-hot, and before he knew it his cock was hard again, rising higher between them each time Jensen’s measured thrusts found that place inside him.

Jensen was clearly struggling to keep himself in check, sweat beading at his hairline and a flush spreading down his throat, across his chest, nipples hard, belly taut. Just looking at him made Jared crave more.

“Fuck me, Jensen,” he rasped. “Don’t hold back.” 

Jensen smiled with his mouth parted as he pulled in quick, shallow breaths. “Hey, who’s in charge here?” he panted, but even as he said it, he leaned farther up, planting a hand on the bed next to Jared’s head and thrust again, this time with more force. Jared grunted, then gasped as Jensen’s hand slid between them to grip Jared once more, long, firm strokes working his cock in rhythm with the pounding of Jensen’s hips, and from that moment on Jared was a blazing fire. Dimly he could hear Jensen murmuring to him over the roar of blood in his ears, encouragements and praise jittering across his skin to join with the exquisite heat radiating out from his balls, his cock.

Jared could feel himself tossing his head back and forth on the pillow, but he couldn’t help it, no longer in control of his own body. He strained, strained up toward Jensen, jerked once more in the circle of Jensen’s fingers and came, sensation bursting through him, millions of needles beneath his skin piercing him all at once.

He felt as much as heard Jensen’s gasp then, a brief burst of damp air across his mouth before Jensen ducked forward, pressed them nose-to-nose and finally let go. Jared closed his eyes tight as Jensen’s dick swelled inside him, imagining the thick rush of come sliding into the condom, welcoming the fierce drag and pull of Jensen fucking himself through his release, his arms hooked around Jared’s shoulders to hold him close, his fast, short thrusts stretching out into slow, grinding ones as he groaned Jared’s name. 

Jensen collapsed on top of Jared. He was breathing harshly through his mouth, and Jared could almost taste his scent. Jared’s own heart was still going way above the speed limit, aftershocks of pleasure were still pulsing through his body in thick, incessant waves.

Jensen edged his hips back, holding onto the condom, until he pulled free. It stung like a hot wire, unexpected enough that Jared let out a yelp, and immediately Jensen’s hand was on his belly, circling soothingly, his other hand easing Jared’s legs back down to the mattress, massaging the cramped muscles of his thighs.

Then Jensen got out of bed. Jared couldn’t even raise his head to see where he’d gone. He was little more than a wrung-out husk, his arms spread wide and body sweat-damp, breathless and tingling and overwhelmed. He came around when Jensen returned and swept a cool cloth between his legs, over his stomach and chest. “My turn to clean up after you,” he teased. 

Then he slipped back in next to Jared, tugging and rearranging the duvet that had become bunched at the foot of the bed so that it covered them. He gently combed the damp hair off of Jared’s forehead. "You okay?" Jensen whispered.

Jared let his eyes fall shut and rolled toward Jensen, tucking his face into Jensen’s shoulder and hiding from the enormity of it all. “Yeah,” he mumbled into the smooth skin of Jensen’s chest. “Yeah.” And then, barely a whisper, “Thank you.”

Now he just needed to get up and get back to the staff dorms without anyone seeing him. Do that. In just a second.

~~~~~

Jared woke up in the dark. He was naked, befuddled. Jared wasn’t used to being naked except in the shower, or on the way to and from the shower. Then he realized that he was lying next to Jensen, who was also naked, and that woke him up completely.

He carefully slid the sheets off and inched to the edge of the bed, but as he went to sit up, he had to bite his lip to keep from crying out at the deep-seated pain inside him. His ass was sore and throbbing, but the pain also sparked a warmth through his chest and his groin at the sense-memory of how it got there. It was unsettling, thrilling, the reminder of where Jensen had been.

He held his breath, praying Jensen didn’t wake up, and felt around for his shorts and boxers on the floor, wincing. Luckily, the moon shone bright enough to cast a glow through the thin Roman shades, and helped him pick his way silently to the door. 

Jared located his shirt in the living room and threw it on. He was running on auto-pilot now, checking the room for disorder, folding Jensen’s shirt and laying it over the back of the chair, dutifully turning the lamps off. 

He hesitated at the door, but realized there was no other way out but through this gauntlet. He figured that Alex had seen the worst of him already so he turned the handle and slipped out, easing the door shut quietly behind him. 

Trying as best he could to hide behind his hair, he glanced over to where Alex sat, his book illuminated under a gauzy yellow circle cast by a tiny lamp. He wasn’t reading now, though, his focus trained on Jared like a hawk to prey. He told himself Alex didn’t care, wouldn’t judge him, that Jared was probably the hundredth guy Alex had seen slipping out of Jensen’s rooms in the wee hours of the morning. Strangely enough, that actually didn’t make him feel any better. 

Alex looked him up and down, then said in a low rumble, “Need another walk back?”

It sounded kind, not mocking, but Jared flinched a little anyway. “Thanks, but I’m good,” he replied, starting down the path. 

“Hey, kid,” Alex called.

“Yeah?”

Alex’s voice floated out to him in the darkness beyond the edge of the light. “Take care of him, okay?” 

“I’ll try.” And eager to avoid further conversation, he fled down the path, doing everything in his power not to limp or hitch or give sharp-eyed Alex any kind of indication of what he must know happened inside. “I’ll try,” he whispered to himself.

The ever-present surf sighed at him from the reef, and Jared stuck to the darkest shadows of the path. Minutes later he found himself sneaking into his room, wondering what his roommates thought of his unusual absence. He tumbled into his own bed. Astonished. Sore. Euphoric.

~~~~~

  


  
[ ](http://s37.photobucket.com/albums/e57/deirdre_c/unmakethebed/?action=view&current=July_21.png)  


When Tom came to wake him a just few hours later, Jared waved off, pillow covering his face. “Still hungover, man.”

But as soon as Tom left, Jared hobbled into the shower, his ass aching, feeling it even worse than the night before. His guts felt like someone had stirred them with a spoon. As he washed, he raised his leg so that the water would flow over the tender, stinging flesh around his hole. He didn’t mind, though, savoring each twinge, remembering how Jensen’s hands and cock had opened him up and pushed inside him. The image flashed in his mind—Jensen and him, bound together—and his heart started to pound; it was almost too intense to think back on.

Afterward, he returned to bed, thinking he’d try for a few minutes’ more sleep, but when he closed his eyes, his mind whirled like a firework throwing off sparks. He wondered if Jensen would wake and be glad Jared had made himself scarce. He wondered how awkward and inept Jensen must’ve thought him, whether Jensen would regret going to bed with his housekeeper after all. He sternly told himself that Jensen might not want to spin this out for the rest of the month, that last night might have been a one-time thing. And then, for the next half hour, he contemplated—if it wasn’t one-time-only—what other things Jensen might teach him.

When the clock hit 7:15, he rolled from the blankets, wolfed down a quick bowl of cereal, and headed out, just like it was a normal morning. 

He picked up the fresh laundry, then stopped by the kitchens to get that morning’s breakfast of sweet potato scones and heavy cream, thanking Alona for the extra scone she’d smuggled out just for him. He hobbled away, and he reminded himself that, even if Jensen did want to make Jared his Summer Fling—oh god, that sounded crazy even in his head—that Jared still needed his job at Paradiso. He still needed the money, would need the money again next year and the year after that, and he had to make sure he didn’t get fired.

Uphill was painful, but he made it to the villa just a few minutes late. Stark shot him a knowing look, but didn’t say anything, for which Jared was grateful, so he handed over Alona’s still-uneaten, wayward scone. 

Jared juggled the tray as he opened the villa’s front door, and he realized with alarm that he should have spent at least a _little_ time in all his thinking that morning about what he was going to say when he actually encountered Jensen again. But it was too late now; he was here. 

He caught a brief reprieve when he discovered Jensen wasn’t lurking in wait for him. The kitchen was empty, so he set down his things and made his regular trip to the supply closet. He didn’t linger there, though. He was too nervous, dying to know the worst. 

When Jared knocked and entered the office as always, Jensen looked up from his computer and smiled, his whole face lighting up. He was so beautiful it took Jared’s breath away. Jared couldn’t believe he knew what it was like to kiss that mouth, and at the same time, he wanted to do it again so badly he had to knot his hands in fists behind his back.

“You’re here,” Jensen said.

What was Jared supposed to read in that? Was Jensen glad? Maybe? 

“I am.” 

“Are you staying?” This time Jared thought he could hear a note of hopefulness in Jensen’s voice, but… he didn’t want to presume. 

“I’ll do whatever you’d like me to,” Jared replied. That was neutral enough.

“Oh,” Jensen said, brow furrowing. “I thought, perhaps, after last night, we were—but then this morning you were gone and, and I wasn’t sure…” He trailed off, one hand coming up to rub the back of his neck, and Jared’s heart fell because Jensen certainly didn’t sound very happy or hopeful anymore.

“I didn’t want to wake you last night, but I left without being seen because, according to the rules of the resort, staff aren’t allowed to have relations with the guests.” Jared’s throat grew so tight he thought he might choke on his words. But he was doing the right thing and handing Jensen an easy excuse for breaking things off: they weren’t supposed to be together, but since no one saw them, it could all be swept under the rug. 

An apt saying in the event of sleeping with the help.

“To hell with the rules,” Jensen snapped, jumping to his feet, slapping the flat of one hand against the desk, but then he visibly reined himself in. “Sorry. I—I guess I’m still not in the habit of paying much attention to authority.” 

Jared took a deep breath. So much for excuses, he was going to have to make Jensen say it outright. “Your Highness, last night was the greatest thing that has ever happened to me,” he said. “But I understand if you want me to go back to being your room attendant and no more. You can also speak to Ms. Gamble and I’m sure—”

He didn’t get any further than that because Jensen lunged forward and grabbed Jared’s face with both hands, pulling him down into a bottomless kiss. 

Jared spread his palms wide across Jensen’s back and held on.

They broke apart finally, gasping for air, Jensen continuing to pepper Jared’s mouth with short kisses. “You’re an idiot. _I’m_ an idiot.”

Jared grinned, surprise and relief blending with affection. “We could be idiots together?” 

“Yes, please.”

Jensen tugged at Jared’s shirt until it came untucked from his shorts, slipping his hands up underneath to curl around Jared’s ribs. Jared groaned, felt all the blood in his body make a rush for his dick. He wanted nothing more than to rut against Jensen’s leg like a pet dog, but when Jensen started to back him up toward the wall, a twinge of soreness brought him back to reality. 

“Wait,” Jared gasped. 

“What?” Jensen asked, halting their progress, but not releasing him. 

“Jensen—” he started.

“I love it when you call me that,” Jensen teased. But then he read the look on Jared’s face and grew serious. “What is it?”

“This is still my job, you know? Working here. Taking care of you, and Stark and Alex, and the guests down at the other villas.” He paused. Jensen nodded for him to go on. “Also, you’re trying to be discreet, right? You don’t want any gossip? That’s why you didn’t bring a Summer Fling in the first place.”

“What are you saying?” Jensen asked carefully. “Are you abandoning me after all?”

“No!” Jared said, gripping Jensen’s shoulders. “God no. I’m just suggesting that, maybe we agree that I go ahead and do my job during the day, and then, we could… could be together at night. Like last night.”

“Hmm. _Just_ like last night?” Jensen gave him a lascivious smirk. 

Jared waggled his eyebrows in return. “Whatever curriculum you set, sir.” 

Jensen gave him a laugh, and it was coated with longing. He backed away toward his desk again. “Fine. We’ll try your way, if that’s what you want. But you’ll have to stay out of my sight, or I may lose control of myself.”

“I’ll do my best,” Jared promised, thinking _please don’t throw me in the briarpatch_ , and turned to leave, holding himself stiffly so that Jensen would not see he was still hurting a bit, hoping the tenderness would fade as the day went on.

They made it through lunch, and dinner too, and if there were moments when Jared could feel Jensen undressing him with his eyes from across the room, well, that just made the blood hum under his skin a little faster.

~~~~~

That night Jared did not need his friends’ urging to attend the staff party, knowing that he could easily wander to the edge of the churning crowd and sneak away unnoticed. Which is what he did as soon as possible. He hurried off into the darkness, debating whether he’d felt more nervous last night or this. Last night he’d been uncertain; tonight, it was the certainty that had his hands shaking.

He found Jensen reading on the living room couch, bare-chested in flannel pajama pants, his feet propped on the table. There was no logical reason in the world that Jared’s brain would think, _home_ , at the sight, but it echoed there, filling the corners of Jared’s soul with want.

Jensen snapped his book closed and gestured with it, smiling ruefully. “I was trying to distract myself, but I have no earthly idea what this says.” He tossed it aside and got to his feet, Jared moving toward him, and they met in the center of the room, drawn like magnets. Jensen clutched him close, sealing their lips together. When they parted, Jensen lifted a hand to Jared’s cheek, smoothing over it with his thumb. “So, what do you want to try tonight?”

Jared didn’t know what to ask for, so many possibilities he could name, more he probably didn’t even know. “I’m all yours. We can do whatever you want.”

Jensen’s eyes were tender. “I saw you limping earlier. Are you sore?” 

Jared flushed, worried Jensen might send him away. “No, I’m fine,” he insisted. 

“Jared—” Jensen started, but cut himself off. He hooked Jared’s wrist and led him into the bedroom, kicking the doors closed even though there was no one else in the villa to disturb them. “I was in such a hurry last night, I didn’t even… I’d really like to suck you off, okay?” 

Jared nodded quickly.

“I’m guessing no one’s ever done that to you before?”

Jared nodded again, his cock swelling up just from the thought of it.

Jensen put a finger to Jared’s chest and pushed, tipping him onto the edge of the bed. Then he shoved down his pajamas, kicking them off so that he stood before Jared, gloriously naked. So much of last night was a blur, Jared almost felt like this was his first time seeing Jensen, and he tried to burn every detail into memory as if it was his last.

Jensen lifted his arms to run his hands slowly through his hair, posing, offering himself up to Jared's gaze, and said, “Some guys like it if I’m naked and they’re still fully-clothed. It’s a power-trip kind of thing. What do you think?”

But before Jared could answer, Jensen dropped down to the floor between his thighs. He undid the button on Jared’s shorts and pushed them open, Jared bulging out of the vee of his zipper. 

“Up,” Jensen ordered, so Jared leaned back on his hands, raising his hips for Jensen to slide everything off, and his shirt quickly followed. “Problem is, I like you naked too much. We’ll have to try the other way some other time.”

Jared couldn’t think about some other time, because right then and there his stiff, bare cock was only a few dozen inches from Jensen’s mouth. It bobbed a little, hopefully, like it was reaching out and Jensen chuckled. “Eager, I see.” Then—sadistic bastard that he was—he pursed his lips and blew, cool air gusting over the slippery, leaking tip.

“Fuck!” Jared cried, squirming as a thrill eddied through him, his fingers twisting the bedding into knots. When he tensed, his sore ass flared in resonance, just a little, a hot spark chasing the floe of ice sailing along his nerves.

“Oh god, this is going to be fun,” Jensen said, sounding amused, his palms hot where they rested on Jared’s knees, holding him open. “Now pay attention.”

Jensen slowly leaned in, and—even though Jared knew he was supposed to stay still, pretty sure good blowjob etiquette dictated it—all he could think of was thrusting his hips forward, having Jensen’s mouth on him for the first time. He held his breath and gripped the sheets tighter. 

“You don’t have to get the whole thing in your mouth right away,” Jensen said sedately, as if at the front of a lecture hall, “sometimes it’s good to start by licking.” His tongue flashed out, flat and wet, trailing up one side of Jared’s dick, then gliding back down the other. Jared moaned helplessly, his thighs quivering. It just felt _so fucking good_.

“This thick vein is particularly nice,” Jensen went on, stroking there too, tongue first supple, then hardening to a point as it ran up the center, pressing into incredibly sensitive skin. “And right here,” Jensen went on, “this spot on the underside… right… here…” a bright dart touched right under the crown on Jared’s cock. It set off a burst that tore through him like lightning through the night sky, and he nearly broke the promise he made himself after last night not to lose it too early ever again.

The sound he heard was his own whimpering, urgent and pitiful.

“This seems like a good time to move on to the next portion of the blowjob.” Jensen was really putting on a show, and Jared would have loved to play along, if he weren’t so shell-shocked. “Scoot back, okay?”

Jared inched clumsily farther onto the bed, half-drunk and dizzy with want, Jensen crawling up with him simultaneously. He settled in between Jared’s legs like he never meant to leave. “Don’t believe what you see in porn. Your knees can get really tired down there.” 

Jared huffed out a laugh and then sucked all the air in the room right back in as Jensen’s hand took firm hold of the base of his cock, and his hot, wet mouth sealed over the head of Jared’s dick, only hesitating for a second before sliding down as if he’d never stop. Jared never wanted him to stop. Jensen pulled back, this time with suction, pressure all around, dragging, coaxing, and it was incredible, unbelievable. Despite his good intentions, Jared’s hips bucked up uncontrollably.

The pressure disappeared. “Ah, ah, ah,” Jensen scolded. “That’s a bit too advanced for this lesson.” He dropped an innocent kiss on the tip of Jared’s cock, but his words took a sinful turn. “I’ll let you fuck my mouth next time.”

“ _Jensen._ ” Jared felt like he’d been turned inside out, every nerve ending exposed of the surface of his skin. 

“Just remember,” Jensen said, as if Jared could concentrate when he was so hard it was agony, “no teeth…” Jensen nipped the flesh of his belly, sharp enough to sting, “… lots of suction…” and Jared knew a bruise would form where Jensen sucked at the inside of his thigh, “… and have fun.” Jared felt Jensen’s lips widen in a smile against the head of his dick, smearing Jared’s pre-come round and round over soft lips. Then he was taking Jared down again, deep, all the way into his tight throat. Somehow his hand was doing this twisting thing in time with the roll of his tongue, bobbing, swallowing around him, over and over to the soundtrack of an obscene wet squelching sound. Jensen’s other hand came up to brush over Jared’s balls—tight and full and slick from the spit trickling down over them—just the lightest of touches, and Jared was slain.

“Oh my god. Oh my god.” Jared didn’t think he’d be capable of saying anything else ever again, his entire brain streaming out of his dick, like no orgasm he’d ever known. “Oh my god.”

Jensen held still as Jared pulsed frantically into his mouth. Jensen sucked gently and softly until Jared spent himself completely, then eased off. But it wasn’t over, because Jensen slid up the bed until he was face-to-face with Jared, palmed the back of his head and reeled him in. He tasted his own come on Jensen’s tongue. It shouldn’t have been as hot as it was, sharing that strange, earthy tang. His limbs felt heavy and languid, but he couldn’t ignore Jensen’s cock, a scorching line against his hip.

In a whisky-smooth voice, Jensen said, “Scoot some more.” He gently urged Jared up the bed until he was propped with his back against the headboard. Then Jensen straddled Jared’s thighs, rising tall on his knees so that he was all Jared could see.

“So. You want to try?” He held his dick and extended it to Jared’s lips like an offering.

Nervously, Jared licked out, tasting just the tip. The fluid glistening there was surprisingly thin and pungent. Up close like this, Jensen seemed so huge, so solid. Jared has no idea how all that fit inside him last night and he was sure he couldn’t get it all in his mouth right now.

Jensen started to pull away. Jared grabbed at his hips and held him in place. “Wait! I—I want to.” He looked up into Jensen’s eyes and smiled with what he hoped looked like confidence. “Can’t let your teaching go to waste.”

“You don’t—” Jensen started, but Jared cut him off.

“Quiet. I’m trying to concentrate.”

Jensen laughed a little, and it caused his dick to jounce against his belly. Not stopping to think, Jared reached out and gripped it to hold it steady. The angle, the size, the weight were all different from his own, obviously, but even more unexpected was its warmth, how it was almost hot in his palm.

He leaned closer, the smell of Jensen was heavy in his nose. Jared was surprised to find it made his mouth water a little in anticipation for another taste. He licked first, like Jensen had told him, a simple stripe up the soft and thin skin on the underside. 

He peeked up at Jensen again, expecting a smirk and a quip, but instead found a vulnerable, unguarded look of bare _need_. Jared simply had to satisfy it.

He covered Jensen’s cockhead with his lips. It was insanely smooth, slick on his tongue. He slid his hand up to meet his lips and then tried to follow it down, only able to take in a few inches, but mouthing at the vein, searching for that spot where Jensen had lit him up earlier. He could tell he was gripping too tight, but couldn’t let go, concentrating on keeping his mouth open, keeping his teeth out of the way, juggling spit and suction and tongue. His jaw was aching already, and it was hard to breathe, but Jared was instantly addicted to it all. The load of Jensen’s cock, his mouth so full, saliva dripping sloppily from the corners, Jensen making small, desperate noises above him. He imagined for a second Jensen grabbing his head, holding his hair, fucking into his mouth without warning, without restraint, and the thought of it made him moan around Jensen’s thick flesh.

“Wait. Jared. Fuck, just let me…” Jensen pulled out. “Close your eyes,” he groaned, more begging than command, and Jared had seen enough porn to know what was coming. Although every ounce of him wanted to watch, he shut his eyes just as the first wave of Jensen’s come hit his face, his eyelids and cheeks. As more splatted and streaked across him, he instinctively tilted his chin up, parting his lips to let some spill in, letting a thick gob slide to the back of his throat, tasting Jensen in full.

When it was over, Jensen fell to the side, sprawling over the bed, arm flung over his eyes and gasping like he’d just sprinted the 100-yard dash. Jared leaned back against the headboard again with a thunk, drawing a pillow toward him and using the edge of the silken case to wipe off of his face. Thank goodness he changed the sheets every day.

Jensen roused himself enough to clamber up to the head of the bed, pulling Jared down so that they were facing each other, their knees knocking together. He gave Jared a lazy smile. “You’re a fast learner.”

“I’m highly motivated,” Jared teased back, but it was true. He didn’t want this to stop, didn’t want Jensen to start to lose interest because of Jared’s fumbling lack of experience. “What next?”

“Whoa. Slow down a second,” Jensen said. “Some of us need at least a little recovery time. Hey, let me see something.” 

He smoothed a hand up Jared’s thigh, pulling at it so that his knee slid high up onto Jensen’s hip. Jared winced a little as it stretched him a bit farther than was comfortable. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“I want to see if I injured you last night.” 

“What?” Jared jerked away.

Jensen held on. “Hey, it’s not… you don’t have to be embarrassed. I’m the one who did it to you, right? And we’re not doing _anything_ else until I know for sure you’re okay.” Jared blushed furiously, but Jensen didn’t budge. Finally, Jared nodded and Jensen slid a careful finger between the cheeks of Jared’s ass. Jared pushed his heated face into the crook of his arm, feeling the tip of Jensen’s finger run a small circle around the still-tender rim of his hole. 

Jensen disentangled himself, rolling briskly off of the bed. “I’ll be right back.”

Jared buried his face in his hands; this was probably the most mortifying thing he’d ever experienced. He should just get up and go. But before he had a chance to slink away, Jensen was back. He’d thrown on a pair of boxers and he sat down on the edge of the mattress, cupping a small green-glass jar in his hand, twisting off the lid. “I know that you—you don’t like to be on your stomach, but can you turn over just a little bit?”

Jared didn’t want to refuse Jensen anything, but he didn’t understand. “Why?”

Jensen showed him the open jar, which contained some kind of white cream. “I can apply this for you, it’ll help you heal up, ease the soreness.”

“I’m alright, really. It feels way better than it did this morning, almost back to normal.”

“But, it was supposed to be good. I went too fast,” Jensen said unhappily, chewing on his lower lip. “I hurt you, Jared.”

“No,” Jared sat up. “No, it was fantastic. Perfect. I can’t wait to do it again.” He shifted a little closer, dared to lay a kiss on Jensen’s shoulder. “And look at it this way, I’m all broken in now!”

Jensen snorted, mouth twitching into a tiny smile. “Okay. Let’s see how you feel tomorrow. Take this and use it when you get back to your room.” He placed the jar carefully in Jared’s hand. But something still felt off to Jared, some niggling tension. For all Jared’s ass was aching, it felt like Jensen was so cautious with Jared all the time, as if he didn’t trust himself. Jared wanted to show just how much faith he had in him.

He handed the jar back. “Would you do it for me?” Jared lay down on the bed, facedown, but with his head turned so that he was looking at Jensen. It felt a bit strange, just because he never slept on his stomach anymore, but it didn’t feel scary. Tension drained out of his muscles, and he let out his breath on a sigh.

Jensen placed a hand tentatively on Jared’s shoulder blade, then slowly drew it down the flat of his back, over the curve of his ass, down his leg. “You have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?” he whispered, tracing back up the way he’d come, just one fingertip this time.

“Yes,” Jared deflected, “but feel free to tell me whenever you want.”

“Brat.” Jensen brought his palm down on Jared’s ass with a light smack, louder than it felt. 

Jensen froze for a second, Jared did too. But before Jared could react, decide what he thought about… about _that_ , Jensen had turned quickly away, fussing unnecessarily with the medicinal cream, motioning for Jared to make more room for him on the bed.

“It’s going to feel a little cold,” Jensen cautioned, laying a hand on Jared’s cheek and kneading for a second before pulling it gently to the side, exposing him. Despite the warning, Jared jumped at the cool touch of the cream, but he kept his gaze locked on Jensen, couldn’t look away if he tried, because Jensen was staring at his ass in solemn concentration, and that was a sight to behold. 

The cream spread thickly, Jensen layering it with his forefinger, rubbing it with his thumb, murmuring nonsense under his breath as he did. “Gotta take care of you. Wasn’t supposed to be like this. Make me so crazy. Dying to get back inside you.” Jensen dipped his thumb into Jared, just a bit, hardly enough to even register. Except for how Jared gasped, his hips thrusting sharply up toward the pressure of their own accord, wanting more, deeper, now that he knows how good it can be. Soreness be damned.

“Hold up now,” Jensen laughed, but his voice was tight. “We can try again tomorrow.”

Jared, keenly aware that his nights with Jensen were numbered, thought patience was overrated.

~~~~~

  


  
[ ](http://s37.photobucket.com/albums/e57/deirdre_c/unmakethebed/?action=view&current=July_22.png)  


Jensen was still in bed when Jared arrived the next morning, which was typical for most of the resort guests Jared attended, but had never happened with Jensen.

Jared gazed for a second at the closed double doors of the master bedroom and pictured himself walking through them, stripping out of his Housekeeping uniform and crawling into bed, but there’s no question that would be overstepping his place. Jensen would call for him if he were wanted. 

He stepped into the supply closet, assiduously started counting stacks of towels, determined to put the image of Jensen, bare-chested and sleep-warm, out of his mind. Then he dived into the morning checklist. He spent forty-five minutes in the office and living room, another fifteen out by the pool, thirty more in the kitchen and still not a sound came from the bedroom. 

Jared stood at the counter, trimming fruit and spooning Greek yogurt into a shallow bowl for breakfast, when Jensen finally appeared, the clear morning light from the windows sparking blond highlights in his mussed hair.

Every time Jared saw him, he looked more stunning than the last.

“How are you feeling?” Jensen rumbled, morning- rough.

“Good. One-hundred percent,” Jared said, swiftly, but truthfully. The cream had worked its magic, and he was fit for duty again.

“Are you done here?”

Jared glanced around the kitchen and then down at the artfully arranged meal, quickly wiped the paring knife on a towel and put them both away. “I am now.”

At that, Jensen came around the island. Jared felt himself freeze like prey, simultaneously anxious and eager to see what was going to happen next. Jensen slid between Jared and the counter, placing one palm flat and hopping up. Jared went to move out of the way but Jensen tugged at him so that he stumbled closer, trapped between Jensen’s thighs. 

“I woke up this morning,” Jensen said softly, “and sat there thinking all about yesterday, of all the other things I want to teach you about.” He reached up to rest his hands on Jared’s shoulders, thumbs tracing small circles along Jared’s collarbone, making him want to melt. “So many things. Filthy things. Things you’ve probably never thought of. I knew if I came out here before you were done with your work, I couldn’t keep my hands off of you. So I stayed in bed. And kept thinking.” Jensen drew Jared closer, their mouths close, even with each other with Jensen sitting at this height. He whispered, “It got me so hot, I had to jerk myself off.” 

Jared shivered, shifted in the cage of Jensen’s legs as blood rushed to fill his cock. He’d told Jensen he was finished for the morning. That meant he was technically off duty, right? It didn’t matter; he didn’t have the willpower to pull away from this.

“What things?” Jared prompted, letting himself lean just the slightest bit forward so that his lips brushed Jensen’s as they moved. “Tell me.” 

Jensen flashed a quick grin, but then got serious again, sliding his left hand up into Jared’s hair, taking a firm grip. He plucked a piece of mango from the breakfast plate and brought it to Jared’s lips. Jared opened automatically, and Jensen slipped the velvety fruit onto his tongue with a burst of sweetness. “A lot of them had to do with this mouth of yours.” 

Jensen dipped his finger into the yogurt and painted it carefully along Jared’s lower lip, then his upper. It was cold and clotted and Jared had to stop himself from automatically licking out to taste. 

“I imagined you in lipstick, bright red as you sucked my cock.” He picked up a strawberry next, traced the stubbled tip over Jared’s eyebrows, his cheeks. “Eyeliner. Blush.” He dragged the berry through the yogurt on Jared’s lips and fed it to him. Jared bit into it, tart cutting through the mango’s sweetness. “A corset.” Jared jolted, felt Jensen hook his heels into the hollow of Jared’s knees, squeezing Jared’s hips with his thighs. “These long legs encased in stockings.” 

Jared couldn’t actually imagine it, but he knew if Jensen wanted it, he would do it. Anything. 

Jensen’s thumb rested on Jared’s lower lip. “Does that scare you?” he asked, searching Jared’s face.

Instead of answering, Jared drew Jensen’s thumb into his mouth, raising an eyebrow and sucking gently.

“Oh god,” Jensen murmured, closing his eyes. His fingers curled to cup Jared’s chin and he rubbed his thumb against the grain of Jared’s tongue, matching Jared’s rhythm with shallow thrusts. Jared remembered the night before, the full weight of Jensen’s cock in his mouth, the taste of him better than any food, and he moaned. He knew exactly what he was missing now, what he could have.

Jensen pulled his hand away and replaced it with his lips, and Jared was instantly awash in the warmth of Jensen’s mouth, and his toothpaste-flavored tongue, and the way Jensen shut his eyes and tilted his head, sighing into Jared like he couldn’t help himself. Jared pressed closer, finding Jensen right at the lip of the counter so that their groins touched, and suddenly everything was bright-hot and Jared’s head was buzzing. He let himself taste the minty corners of Jensen’s lips.

That was when Jensen pulled away, his eyes twinkling. “Okay. Back to work.” 

Jared blinked stupidly. He felt like a bag of raw nerves dumped out on the floor. “You’re joking.”

“You’re the one who made the rule about fooling around on the job.” Jensen said. “Besides, I’ve got to get back to work too. Got to make Grandfather proud of me.” He jumped down from the counter. “I’ll see you at lunch,” he said and strode back to the bedroom without giving Jared and his throbbing dick a backward glance.

~~~~~

When Jared came by with lunch, Jensen kept his hands and his teasing to himself. Jared wasn’t sure whether he was relieved or disappointed.

Dinner was another matter. 

“You have to answer a question before you go.”

“Okay.” Jared’s heart skipped. Jensen hadn’t played the question game since they’d started this. 

There was a strange look on Jensen’s face—uncertain, hopeful—as he walked into the bedroom, Jared trailing behind. Jensen opened wide the doors of the paneled armoire and pulled out a drawer, plucking something out and turning to approach Jared with it.

He up-ended his hand and dropped what he carried into Jared’s palm. Jared couldn’t tell what it was at first. It was made of clear, heavy glass, and looked like an artsy, over-sized chess piece, a teardrop shape atop a flared base tinted blue like the sea. He turned it over in his hand and suddenly grasped what it was; it was a sex toy, a plug. Jared had seen them in porn online.

Jensen said, “My question is, would you put this in and wear it until you come back to see me tonight?” He licked his lips, and Jared noticed he was breathing a little faster than normal. “See, this will help make it easier than the first time. Help loosen you up, get your body ready.” 

Jared nodded slowly, not ready to refuse, but thrown off-guard nonetheless. He’d sometimes thought about buying something like this—a dildo, a vibrator—but he’d never had the guts to go through with it. What if someone saw him buy it? What if someone found it? He didn’t have a lot of friends in Texas with butt plugs. 

That led him to look up sharply. “Wait. Is this yours?”

“Yes,” Jensen said. “I didn’t plan on having any, um, company while I was here, and I figured I would like something more than just my own right hand.” He held his palms up, reassuring. “It’s clean, and it’s pretty small as these things go, I don’t think you’ll have any trouble with it. You can tell me if it’s uncomfortable. I mean, you’ll probably think it’s uncomfortable at first, but that fades away pretty fast.” 

Jared hardly heard what Jensen was saying. He’d wrapped his fingers carefully around the plug, feeling the once cool glass already warming to near body temperature in his palm. This had been inside Jensen, _inside_ him. And now he wants it in Jared. 

“I’m ready.” He took a breath, let it out, gripped the plug a little tighter. “What do I have to do?”

Jensen stepped in close, closed his own hands around Jared’s. “I think it’ll be easier if you let me help,” he said, his voice low, gliding along Jared’s nerves like silk. “But you’re going to want to get on your hands and knees. Do you think you can do that for me?”

Jared nodded again, squeezing his eyes shut and letting Jensen lead him over to the bed. 

He was still in his uniform, and something about stripping out of the black shirt with the resort’s logo blazoned on the pocket here in Jensen’s rooms felt particularly illicit. It was also strange getting naked so methodically, in cold blood, not shoving off his clothes, but neatly folding them and setting them aside.

“I’m putting plenty of lube on it,” Jensen assured him as Jared positioned himself near the foot of the bed, near the edge, as close to Jensen as possible, not penned in. “And we’ll take it slow.” Jensen’s voice was steady, but his hand was shaking just a little when he nudged at Jared’s leg. “A little wider now.” 

On all fours, elbows locked, he spread his knees because Jensen asked for it. He felt a cool drip of lube and Jensen, spreading it around, his finger slipping around the rim of Jared’s hole and then easing forward. Jared almost asked to skip the plug, just to have Jensen finger him all night long, savoring the still-new feel of it as Jensen got more lube and slotted right back in. Jared tried to remind himself that he couldn’t stay right now, had to finish work and sneak back later. Understood that the plug would help. Help him be able to take more than fingers, take _all_ of Jensen again. It was hard to concentrate.

Jared could picture the plug, smooth and dripping, pressing against his hole. Then suddenly it was there, bearing down on him. He balked, hips jerking away instinctively, and Jensen stopped immediately. He climbed up on the bed beside Jared, petting his flank and leaning in to whisper softly against his shoulder, “Alright, it’s just me, it’s fine, you can take this. Does it hurt? You want to stop?” 

He pressed kisses into Jared’s skin in between words, and the vibrations of Jensen’s voice ran through his bones and his marrow and somehow went deeper, suffusing him with warmth, confidence, desire. 

“No.” Jared shook his head. “It doesn’t hurt. Go on. Just… just keep talking, okay?”

“Okay,” Jensen replied, the hand holding the plug easing back in between Jared’s legs, words of reassurance and praise rolling off his tongue. This time when the touch of the tip came, Jared’s hips shifted back to meet the pressure. He imagined opening up to it, like he’d opened up to Jensen two nights ago. 

He’d thought the barrel of the plug would punch into him like a slow-motion gunshot. Instead, the feel of it reminded him oddly of the few times he’d gone scuba diving off of the reef with Sebastian’s crew, unambitious depths where the water squeezed gently over every inch of his body. Jensen was patient, slow, using so much lube Jared thought they might drown in it.

But finally he heard Jensen sigh, “That’s it,” and the burn of stretching ceased. The plug slipped the rest of the way in, like his body couldn’t wait to receive it. It was seated, the flat disc of the base still outside of him, resting flush against Jared’s opening and pulling strangely at the skin there. He leaned back and felt a sharp, shocking spike of arousal. The movement jostled the thing inside of him, and the new angle brushed against something in a way that made his balls clench and his breath stutter.

“How does it feel?” Jensen leaned back on his heels. He made no effort to hide the way his gaze raked over Jared’s body, lingering on the burgeoning swell of his cock. But there was a slight worry Jared sensed, a line of tension in Jensen’s shoulders and the slight crease between his eyes that revealed how anxious he was.

“I don’t know,” Jared answered, panting now, and the heaving of his lungs sounded like a thunderstorm to his ears. He let it swirl around his brain, used it as a distraction against the cascade of shivers running through him, each one pinging off of the foreign, solid weight inside him. “Weird? But good?” He shifted again experimentally and almost leaped out of his skin. “What do I do now?”

“I want you to wear it,” Jensen said. “I want you to keep it in you the rest of the evening, so you feel it every time you move. For the next few hours, whenever you stand or sit, whenever you so much as breathe, I want you to think of me, me inside you, filling you up. I want you to be all stretched and ready and relaxed when we try again tonight.”

It was the single hottest thing Jared had ever heard in his entire life. His dick was starting to ache, the inescapable pressure in his ass was too much and not enough all at once and his skin itched against the soft cotton of the bedsheets. He shifted again, sat up, and for one impossible instant he thought he was going to come just from that. Trembling, he felt cut open and vulnerable, horribly embarrassed at his lack of control until he heard Jensen’s sharp gasp and looked up to find him just as wrecked as Jared was. 

He had to do something, so he threw himself forward and kissed Jensen. It suddenly felt impossible not to. Jensen jolted, then relaxed into the kiss, and Jared noticed only then the careful way Jensen had been holding himself on the corner of the bed, giving Jared plenty of space to get away, to take the plug out and make a break for it. He was overcome by a powerful rush of tenderness.

“Can you keep it in for me?” Jensen asked, as he gathered Jared closer.

“I’ll try,” Jared said, holding onto Jensen’s shirt like a lifeline. “I’m not even sure how I’m going to stand up, but I’ll try.”

“Okay.” Jensen smiled. His hand drifted down between them, fingers sliding past Jared’s erection and behind his balls until they reached the thick circle of glass at Jared’s hole. He tapped it lightly, and Jared’s hips bucked, involuntarily, chasing after the stimulation of Jensen’s touch. He flushed, ducking his head a little, and Jensen reached back up to smooth his hand over Jared’s chest and neck where the ruddy color bled down from his face.

“You’re gorgeous,” he said. “Let me help you with your clothes.”

He guided Jared carefully off the bed, draping Jared’s shirt around his shoulders and kneeling down to help him step into his shorts. Jared wanted to protest Jensen’s unbefitting service, but felt like glass himself, moving slowly so as not to shatter. When Jensen stood, pulling the uniform up with him, Jared hissed at the touch of Jensen’s hand on his sensitive cock, but Jensen merely tucked it gently into Jared’s briefs, then zipped his shorts over it. 

Sucking in a deep breath, he nodded resolutely at Jensen and then headed out, picking up the dishes he needed to return to Eden and the trash from the kitchen on the way. He found that walking wasn’t so bad, as long as he didn’t make any sudden movements. The plug was a constant pressure, but he could keep it in the background. 

He glanced at the clock. Three hours until he could come back. 

He could make it.

~~~~~

By the time Jared returned to Jensen’s front door, he was a strung-out mess.

Jared had never felt anything like this, felt like he’d taken some kind of drug. Below the waist he was on fire, but beyond that he was painfully aware of _everything_ , the sweat in his hair and on his temples, the brush of his shirt against his nipples, the furious push of his blood through his veins, the way even the tips of his fingers were tingling. 

He’d gone through his regular end-of-day chores, but by the time he got back to the dorms, he was struggling. When James asked what was wrong, Jared had lied and said he must’ve eaten something that didn’t agree with him. When he passed Alex at the villa’s threshold, Alex inquired after him too, but by that point he was too preoccupied to say anything at all. He was focused on each heartbeat, every inhalation, anything to keep himself from coming right there in his pants from the relentless abuse of his prostate.

Jensen was waiting for him at the door and pulled him inside. “Jesus, Jared. Look at you.”

He was rickety, light-headed. The feel of Jensen’s hands was the only thing holding him down and keeping him from rocketing into the air.

Jensen pressed him back against the door, nosing along his jaw, murmuring in his ear, “Waited forever for you. How does it feel? Deep inside? Do you like it, being stretched out like this?” He unzipped Jared’s cargo shorts and slipped his right hand down Jared’s ass like he owned it, pressing through Jared’s underwear to nudge at the base of the plug. Jared shouted as the jolt of sensation nearly sent him to his knees.

Jensen grabbed him by the back of skull, held him still while he devoured Jared’s mouth. “Shhh, Alexander will hear you.” 

_Oh fuck_ , Jared thought, and nearly bit through his own lip as Jensen shoved his thigh between Jared’s legs, putting pressure against his cock in counterpoint to the steady bump and prod he was giving the plug. Jared rolled desperately down against Jensen’s leg, scrabbled for a hold on his shoulders. “Please,” he whispered, not even knowing what he was asking for. “I can’t take anymore, Jensen. Jensen. I need—”

“Yeah. Yeah. Come on, then,” Jensen said. “Come for me right here.” He palmed Jared’s cock and jerked it twice. Jared finally, finally came.

It went on for days, ages, fucking eons, shaky-hazy and world-wrecking. He was pretty sure the brace of Jensen’s leg between his was the only thing keeping him from sliding down the wall to curl into a ball on the entryway floor. Vaguely, Jared registered Jensen rubbing circles over his back and shushing him some more, but the heavy pulse of aftershocks thumping through him drowned it out.

Eventually, Jensen tried to pull him toward the living room. “Jared, let’s go in. We should get the plug out now.”

“I can’t.” He really couldn’t. Couldn’t think, couldn’t move. And if Jensen touched him again, he might die.

“Yes, you can. I’ll help you.”

Between the plug still in his ass and the mess of come in his boxers, tacky and wet, Jared ended up hobbling pitifully down the hall. Jensen steered him toward the couch, which had been draped with what looked like one of the spare bed sheets. Jared didn’t have time to examine it, because Jensen was busy pulling off his clothes for him, muttering, “Should just keep you naked all of the time. Save a lot of trouble.”

The funny thing was, Jared was actually starting to get used to being naked. He went to collapse down onto the cushions, but Jensen grabbed him by the arm. “Wait,” he said, “this way, up on your knees first.” 

He guided Jared so that he was facing away from Jensen, leaning over the back of the couch. Jared had no idea where the slick came from, but there it was, Jensen smearing fingerfuls up and around the lip of the plug’s base. Looked like Jensen’s hands on his ass were one more thing he’d become accustomed to in a surprisingly short amount of time.

“Now push a little,” Jensen ordered.

Huh, there was something he wasn’t used to. “Okay, that’s gross.”

Jensen sounded amused, “You want it out, don’t you?” and tugged gently until the plug slipped free of Jared’s body. Jared didn’t see what Jensen did with it, because he was too busy dissolving down onto the couch. Then strong arms wrapped around him and he found himself resting against Jensen’s bare chest.

“So,” Jensen said after a minute. “That was pretty intense.”

“Yeah,” Jared sighed, eyes closed, enjoying the sound of Jensen’s voice rumbling under his ear.

“Sorry. I keep… underestimating how hard things will hit you.” Jensen’s hand was stroking carelessly up and down Jared’s arm, like he didn’t even know he was doing it. “I guess I wasn’t cut out to be a teacher after all.”

“Are you kidding?” Jared drawled. “You’ve got to be kidding. You’re like Plato and Professor X combined, if either of them had specialized in sex.”

That earned him a laugh, and Jared smiled too. For a few more minutes they lay quietly entangled. 

“Jensen,” Jared asked finally, as more of his brain cells started to come back online. “Why are we on the couch?”

He felt Jensen tense slightly, then shrug. “Don’t worry about it. Unless you’re uncomfortable? We can move.” He made to get up, but Jared refused to budge. 

“I’m fine right here. I’m just wondering where the sheet came from. And why the lube is out here.” He looked up to study Jensen’s face. “If this is a test, I’m failing.”

“Well, you see, sometimes it’s easier for the person on the receiving end to be in a position on top. Then he has more control over how fast things go and how deep.” 

Jensen said it so matter-of-factly, it took Jared a second for the light to click on. He sat up. 

“You want me to ride you?” he asked. “On the couch?”

“Another time, maybe,” Jensen rushed, “whenever you’re ready. You don’t have to—”

Jared said, “If you think I wore your plug all that time and then _not_ have you fuck me tonight, you’re crazy.” Just a few minutes ago, Jared would have sworn that he’d never be able to get it up ever again. But now, the idea of crawling into Jensen’s lap and working himself down onto his cock was heating Jared’s blood like a shot of tequila. He wasn’t exactly sure how he’d do it, but he sure as hell wanted to try.

He reached a hand out and touched Jensen’s naked shoulder, caressing the smooth skin there. As his touch moved lower, stomach muscles rippled and gave, and Jensen took an unsteady breath.

That breath was the impetus, the spark that gave Jared courage. He grabbed Jensen’s face in his hands and promptly licked his way into his mouth. Jensen’s muffled grunt was one of surprise, but Jared shifted, forcing Jensen back against the couch, and the next sound was a satisfied groan.

Jared fumbled around, bumping against the armrest, getting his legs tangled, because he wanted to touch _everywhere_ and couldn’t move fast enough. Jensen broke away to press his mouth to whatever skin he could reach — the underside of Jared’s jaw, his throat, his collarbone. 

Incredibly, Jared was actually getting hard again. He blamed Jensen’s mouth, which was warm and wet and even softer than he'd imagined in all those late-night fantasies about full, sensuous lips. He could feel Jensen straining to wriggle out of his pants without breaking contact, kicking them away across the floor.

Hardly waiting for Jensen to stop moving, Jared slung a leg over Jensen’s lap, so that his knees rested on the cushions on either side of Jensen’s hips. But suddenly he felt gawky and flustered, looming over Jensen with his ungainly legs forced wide apart, all arms and elbows, unsure how much of his weight he could rest on Jensen’s thighs.

Jensen must’ve sensed a change of mood. He wrapped his hands lightly at Jared’s waist, his cool, uncalloused fingers stroking the feverish skin under Jared’s ribs. “Is this okay?” Jensen asked. “You just say the word and we’ll stop.”

“You keep saying that.” Jared frowned, annoyed more at himself than Jensen. “You don’t have to coddle me, you know.”

Jensen’s eyebrow quirked up in response. “Well then, cowboy, giddyup.”

Damn him, he was so—so— Jared couldn’t even decide, but in retaliation he leaned over Jensen, bracing one hand on the back of the couch, and shifted his hips forward, pressing his cock into Jensen’s. They moaned in unison, abruptly aligned hard and hot, and Jensen curled his fingers around both of them and stroked them together.

He kept his hand moving on them, even as he threw out an arm to scrabble for something on the side table. Jensen smacked the condom packet into Jared’s unoccupied hands. “More practice,” he gasped out.

Jared concentrated on getting the thing out and rolled down onto Jensen, trying not to be distracted by the _snick_ sound of the lube being opened. The moment Jared looked up from his task, Jensen slid a finger into him, right up to the last knuckle, so much less resistance than before, the work of the plug unmistakable. "Yes," Jared cried, curling both hands on Jensen’s shoulders and arching back.

"Let’s do this right," Jensen said. He twisted his finger, pressure and stretch, moving so slowly, and Jared wanted it _now, god_. He hitched back, but Jensen seized Jared’s hip, held him still, added another finger and then another, patiently working the lube inside with such filthy, wet sounds that Jared gave a pathetic little whine, struggling in Jensen’s grip for more.

Jensen pulled his hand away, and reached around to slick his cock too. Jared was mesmerized by the thick crown popping up out of Jensen’s fist. Jensen stopped and wiped his hand on the sheet, wrapped his other hand around the nape of Jared’s neck and drew his gaze. “Lift up now. And just take it slow.” 

Jared rose up, then leaned forward to let Jensen line up at his hole, slippery and hot. Thighs shaking, Jared started to lower himself down.

It wasn’t new this time, but it still felt impossibly hard, impossibly wide. Jared could hardly breathe for the sensation, hot and shivering all at once, his lungs tight and jagged, but he couldn’t stop watching the way Jensen’s expression changed as his cock slid in.

Jensen didn’t move a muscle, just froze, white-knuckled grip on the edge of the couch, waiting. Panting, Jared kept working himself onto Jensen’s dick, circling his hips a little, and that must have been good because Jensen’s eyes fluttered closed and he groaned. Lube was dripping down Jared’s thighs, and he couldn’t help thinking about what it would feel like if it were Jensen’s come instead.

Jensen was so fucking perfect inside of him. Jared felt full to bursting already; there was no pain, just incredible fullness. He rocked back, taking a little more, and then a final shove down the last few inches, his balls snug against Jensen’s belly, and— _god_ —it felt _incredible_. Jensen’s arms came up around him, his hands skimming over Jared’s back, swiping through the sweat beading along his skin. Jared began to move, tiny tentative rolls of his hips that mounted and mounted until together they found a rhythm that was slick and devastating.

Jensen stared up at Jared as they fucked, his eyes wide and dark, mouth slack with pleasure. His hand found Jared’s cock and started jerking him in time with his plunges, so much sensation Jared didn’t know whether moving up or down was driving him crazier.

Jared’s orgasm came as a shock, starting as a hot prickle at the base of his spine and crashing over him like a wave. He watched as his come gushed out over Jensen’s hand, pulse after pulse of it emptying him out. He screwed his hips down harder even as Jensen thrust up into him, curling to drop his head against Jensen’s shoulder and biting down.

Jensen came, and it was a fucking revelation, the way he arched his back to get deeper, the way he clutched at Jared, the way he keened. It was gorgeous, and Jared just had to kiss him through it, feverishly searching for Jensen’s mouth to share his breath, to share the sounds. 

Separating was less fun, Jared’s thigh muscles quaking, his legs cramped. But once he heaved off, Jensen pulled him close again, sliding his fingers into Jared’s hair. Jared curled towards him, exhausted and content.

“The sheet was a good idea,” he muttered.

“Just trying to save you from extra clean-up tomorrow,” Jensen replied. 

Still stupid with endorphins, Jared nuzzled Jensen’s skin. “You’re thoughtful that way.”

Jensen didn’t seem to mind, leaning into it a little. “I am. And prudent.”

“Yeah?”

“The bed’s still clean, isn’t it?”

Jared whuffed out a breath of laughter. “Okay. If I ever get the feeling back in my legs again, we’ll go in there and I’ll help you mess it up, too.”

~~~~~

  
[ ](http://s37.photobucket.com/albums/e57/deirdre_c/unmakethebed/?action=view&current=July_23.png)  


The next day flew by, Jared living for nightfall.

That afternoon, he’d actually fallen asleep while cleaning the Annex. He didn’t even remember sitting down in the chair, just the feeling of Alex’s hand on his shoulder and a gruff, “Up and at ‘em, Sleeping Beauty” that had him leaping to his feet and his heart rate shooting from zero to sixty as he fled down the hill to show up—fortunately only a few minutes late—for his regular service at Arcadia.

The late nights with Jensen were taking a toll on Jared’s rest, but that was okay. He’d sleep in August.

But now it was sometime after midnight, and Jared was standing with his hands on the rail of the veranda, looking out over the moonlit beach. The dazzle of lights still on at the resort’s main buildings burned off to the right, to the left, the black void of the nature preserve. Where land met sea, the water gently folded over on itself and receded in sparkling half-moons, leaving a line of shells like jewels behind.

Jensen came up behind him, sliding his hands into the deep pockets of Jared’s shorts, and it wasn’t even difficult anymore, no instinctive tensing or need for flight. It felt right, natural, and he leaned forward a bit to support the weight as Jensen pressed full up against his back, resting his head between Jared’s shoulder blades. 

They stood there quietly for long minutes, breathing in time and listening to the surf. Until Jared started to feel Jensen’s fingers moving in his pockets, little circles through the fabric against his skin. Light, random touches, nothing serious, but enough to make Jared start to twitch, his nerves sparking and heat pooling between his legs. His hips hitched back into Jensen’s, felt Jensen’s own growing hardness against his ass.

Jensen hummed approval in his ear. “So responsive. I hardly touch you and you’re lighting up for me.” He leaned up to pull the lobe of Jared’s ear between his teeth, teasing. “What should I do to you tonight?” he asked.

“I want—” Jared started, but broke off until Jensen nudged him, a signal to keep going. “I want something you’ve never done with anyone else,” he said softly. 

Jensen stilled, then gave a short, unhappy laugh. “I’m afraid there’s not much I haven’t done, Jared.” He pulled away and walked to the edge of the pool. “Can’t think of anything. I mean—” he paused for a second, then went on, “—anything right for you.”

Jared knew this, had been provided with vivid evidence of Jensen’s experience every minute of the past few days. But he wasn’t asking for something kinky, it didn’t even need to be something sexual. It could just be… them. Something Jensen might remember Jared for, after he went back to his real life.

Jared gazed out over the tiny scrolls of gently breaking waves. “Have you ever been swimming in the ocean at night?”

“No!” There was disbelief in Jensen’s voice. “Are you crazy?”

“What?” Jared turned to look, perplexed at Jensen’s reaction. “Skinnydipping? It’s a time-honored tradition.”

“Maybe in the pool, it is. But do you know what’s out there?” Jensen said, pointing out to sea.

“The same thing that’s out there in the daytime?” Jared teased, but then he thought, “Oh. Are you worried about tabloid photographers?” Jared knew Traci kept the resort scoured clean of paparazzi, and even if someone was lurking offshore at this time of night, they couldn’t get a picture, right? But… it didn’t make sense to take a chance. “I guess it’s not such a bright idea after all.”

Jensen sighed. “No, I’m not worried about the paps.” He stripped his shirt off and laid it carefully over the rail.

“Awesome!” Jared crowed, shucking out of his own clothes and trotting naked down the knotty-wood stairs built into the hillside leading to the beach.

From under the counter Jensen grabbed a couple of towels from the stack always supplied there, and they glowed white in the darkness. He started after Jared, laughing. “What happened to that bashful, self-effacing guy I met?” 

Jared turned when he got to the bottom, his bare toes curling in the soft, sugary sand. “I guess you’re a bad influence on me.”

Jensen’s smile faded as he trotted down the last few steps. “Don’t say that,” he said sadly.

“Jensen,” Jared said, sorry he’d made the joke.

“I just—” Jensen rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t want to let you down, too.”

“You won’t. You wouldn’t.” Jared replied. He sensed this was an important moment, but the night was so large, the dark sky infinite above them, it was as if it swallowed up their words the minute they were spoken. So instead, Jared bumped Jensen with his shoulder. "Race you."

He took off, sprinting toward the tide-line, the transition to hard-packed sand cool and solid under his feet. Jensen wasn’t behind him, but he didn’t care, he splashed blindly into the warm, dark shallows, ankle, then calf, then knee-deep. 

As the waves lapped at his thighs, he went up tall on his toes to avoid that last moment before the water touched his balls. Then he went all in, slipping forward on his belly like an alligator. He breast-stroked out from the shoreline, the ripples rolling ahead of him, tremors through the silvery black. The sound of Jensen’s cursing as he waded in echoed out to him.

He turned over onto his back, swaying and bobbing, the currents below and the breeze above streaming around him. The craters on the moon were sharp-edged and clear. Jensen’s head finally broke the surface a few feet away. Jared smiled and swam over, quickly closing the distance between them, to tread water face-to-face. Jared’s bangs were in his eyes and he swept them away, the salt-water tang in his mouth reminding him of Jensen’s skin after sex.

Jared’s hand drifted absently to trace the lines of Jensen’s collarbone, over his shoulders and down his chest, and Jensen shivered, his wet skin prickling in goosebumps where Jared’s fingers roamed. It was the first time they’d been out of the villa together. Jared felt weightless, uncaged, as if everything bad in life had been left behind on shore and everything good was out in the water with him. 

Jensen gripped Jared’s shoulder to keep them from drifting apart. “Are we done yet?”

“I could stay out here all night,” Jared said. They were just a hundred yards from the shore, a quarter-mile from the main resort, but just then it felt like the two of them were the only people in the world.

“Oh god,” Jensen muttered. 

“What? What is it?” Jared asked, wrapping his arms around Jensen’s broad shoulders to bring their bodies closer.

“I don’t like… fish.” Jared felt him shrug, and he wished it weren’t too dark out to tell for sure, because he could swear Jensen was _blushing_. 

Jared considered making a joke about sea monsters or something, but the gift was too valuable, the way Jensen came out here even though it made him uncomfortable, just because Jared asked. “Thank you.” He reeled Jensen closer, smoothing his palm down Jensen’s back, licking the water off his neck, biting at his earlobe, and kissing his temple. Jensen’s face was tipped back, his eyes closed, and he was letting Jared take whatever he wanted. “Let’s go in now.”

Jared found the towels where Jensen had dropped them on the water’s edge, handing one to Jensen and wrapping the other around his waist. An errant wave shot past the tide-line, broke around Jared’s ankles then receded, eroding the sand beneath his feet and causing him to sink farther down, as if the ocean were trying to reclaim him.

They headed back up the stairs to the villa and Jensen led him toward the outdoor shower beside the pool, reaching out to turn on the spray. 

“Okay that’s enough new for me,” Jensen said, taking off his own towel and undoing the knot that held the one around Jared’s hips. “Let’s get back to new for you. I don’t suppose you’ve ever showered with someone?” Jensen started to back him up into the warm water, and Jared would swear he could hear his skin sizzling as the shower rained down on it. Jensen pumped some lime-scented soap into his palm and began to massage Jared’s arms and chest with lather. A now-familiar tight ache was clenching low in his gut, his blood pulsing faster the lower Jensen’s hands skated down his torso.

“How many times do you think I can make you come tonight?” Jensen purred in his ear.

“It doesn’t matter, it will never be enough,” Jared said, and winced, because that was hideously awkward and was a perfect example of why people shouldn’t try to make romantic declarations in real life.

“Jared,” Jensen said wonderingly, “you’re a closet romantic!” He grinned. “Or you’re a nymphomaniac. I’m good either way.” 

He pulled Jared down into another deep kiss, steam billowing up between them from warm water meeting the cool night air and the cold tiles beneath their feet.

Hours later, curled next to Jensen in his bed, Jared closed his eyes and thought about falling asleep, safe and warm and feeling loved, with Jensen wrapped around him. Just a few days ago he couldn’t have imagined wanting someone that close, letting someone in, but he did now, with Jensen. Let himself daydream for a few moments that he could have it, this thing beyond sex, before reminding himself that that’s all it was: a dream. 

He eased out from Jensen’s embrace, about to slip away, when he felt Jensen put a hand on his arm. “Stay. Please. Stay the night.”

“I can’t.”

“I’ll talk to Traci in the morning,” Jensen insisted. “I’ll make sure you won’t get into any trouble.”

“It doesn’t work that way for us, you know it.” Jared lifted Jensen’s hand, squeezed it tightly in his own, and gently placed it on the mattress. “I don’t sleep in the beds here, Jensen. I make them.”

~~~~~

  


  
[ ](http://s37.photobucket.com/albums/e57/deirdre_c/unmakethebed/?action=view&current=July_24.png)  


When Tom stopped by just after 6 a.m., Jared dragged himself out of his bunk. It was a misery, but he figured he needed to keep up as many of his normal routines as possible, before people started to wonder where he was spending his time.

Imagine his shock when Dulé got up, too, shoving his feet into running shoes. In the three summers they’d roomed together, Jared had never seen him wake up until the very last possible minute, and sometimes after. Jared didn’t say anything though as they headed down to the beach together. Dulé’d let him know what was up when he was ready.

A couple of people welcomed Jared back or ribbed Dulé about being a first-timer, but they mostly stretched in silence. Overnight some tiny jellyfish sometimes washed ashore and Jared saw one lying there, flexing in the sand like a set of strange, translucent lungs. Then Tom set off and the group fell in behind. With Dulé next to him, Jared carefully resisted the urge to glance up at Shambhala as they jogged past, even though he was dying to catch Jensen looking out the window. Dulé hung with Jared for a few minutes, seeming to have no trouble with the pace.

“I didn’t know you were a runner,” Jared said, finally breaking the silence. 

“I guess we all have our little secrets,” Dulé replied, his eyebrow quirking up.

“Oh. Sorry. Listen, I—” Jared began.

Dulé interrupted, “No, it’s cool. You don’t have to say anything. It’s just that you haven’t been yourself these last couple of days, and, well, some of us were getting worried.”

Jared nodded, looked out at the steel-grey horizon, ironed flat as if by the load of the sky. He realized that in his preoccupation with Jensen that he hadn’t really talked to any of his friends since Friday, too busy trying to catch up on sleep or get back up to the villa. “There’s nothing wrong, I promise. I’m good,” he said. “Really good.”

“Okay then. But you’d better talk to Gen soon, or she’s likely to tie you down and torture you for information. James offered to supply some handcuffs, but she shot him down.”

Jared grinned. “I appreciate the warning.” Then he deliberately caught Dulé‘s eye. “Thanks, man. I’m—I’m lucky to have y’all looking out for me.”

Dulé punched him in the arm, as was appropriate for the moment. “Fine. Great. Talk done. Can we head back now? I’ve had about all of this morning run shit I can take.”

~~~~~

Jared was preoccupied with balancing breakfast and the laundry bag in his arms as he walked up the hill that morning, which was why he didn’t notice something was wrong until he was practically there.

Someone Jared didn’t recognize came out through the front door, struggling to carry a large box. Jared looked around for Stark, but he wasn’t at his post, so Jared stopped the guy. “What’s going on?”

“The Prince is travelling back to Espian today,” he replied. “We’re here to collect his things.”

Jared walked in and it seemed as if Jensen’s villa was crowded with people, packing and milling about. Jensen didn’t even _have_ that much to pack outside of the office equipment. Where did they all come from? Why were they all here? Ever since Carlson’s visit, it had been him and Jensen alone in the villa. The sight of all these intruders shook him.

Then it hit Jared. Packing. Leaving. _It can’t be,_ he thought desperately. _We were supposed to have until the end of the month._

Ms. Ferris was there, directing the work of three other staff members to carry out bags and such. Jared, ignoring them all, walked through the maze of luggage, straight to the bedroom. He realized that he has no right, no reason to be there. But he needed to find Jensen.

The prince was standing at the window on the far wall, looking out over the green expanse of forest. 

“May I come in?” Jared asked.

“He’s gone,” Jensen said, not bothering to reply. “My grandfather. Liver cancer. He knew he was sick, but didn’t tell anyone, and he died last night. My brother and sister were with him. They were there.”

But Jensen had not been, and Jared’s heart ached for him. He didn’t say anything, simply strode over and took Jensen in his arms, wrapping himself around Jensen like a layer of armor, a shield against the pain. Jensen was stiff for a few seconds, then yielded, grabbed Jared’s shirt in both fists and sank into him, his tears wetting Jared’s neck.

Jared didn’t know how long they stood there, holding on, only that eventually someone coughed discreetly from the bedroom doorway. Jared jumped back, caught out.

But there was no hue or cry, simply Ms. Ferris saying, “Five minutes, Your Highness,” her voice gentle, “and the boat will be ready to leave.”

Jensen wiped a hand across his face. “Thank you. I will be there in a moment,” he responded. When Ms. Ferris withdrew, he turned to Jared, cleared his throat. “I have to leave now.”

“Yes,” Jared said numbly. He’d known it was coming, but wasn’t prepared. It was a knife stabbed into a vital organ, Jared was wounded, but it was too soon to fully feel the pain.

“Will you—are you going to work here again next summer?”

It was hard to imagine the rest of this month without Jensen, much less coming back to Paradise Cay next year. How would he feel when Jensen returned too, back to his wild ways and with a new partner, a real partner, to be his Summer Fling? To once again watch from a distance, to maybe have Jensen smile impersonally and turn away. He hoped time would staunch the bleeding, because Jared knew he’d have to endure, couldn’t give up the kind of money he earned here.

“I’m not sure,” Jared temporized. “I hope so.” 

“Oh.” 

Jared searched his face, but couldn’t tell what Jensen thought of that. Couldn’t tell whether he was concerned Jared might be here to make things awkward. Speaking of which. “Yeah, so I guess I’ll go now.” He backed up toward the door, old habits of not turning his back on a guest, on a prince, kicking in. “Thank you. For everything, Your Highness.” 

At least he said it with a smile, like it could still be a little joke between them.

“No. No, wait.” Jared stopped as his hand touched the doorknob, heartbeat kicking into high gear, not even sure what he hoped Jensen was going to say. Jensen ran a hand through his hair, blushing as pink as Jared ever did. “What if you came to work for _me_ next year? I mean, you could—”

 _Oh._ And as suddenly as Jared’s hopes had risen, they fell, like the floor opening up and dropping him into the sea. Of course. Of course Jensen was going to _hire_ him. At least Jared could take it as a compliment that his lack of experience hadn’t kept Jensen from wanting to bring him onto staff again. It’s not that Jared thought they were… were in a relationship, were lovers or something. But he at least thought he counted as one of Jensen’s summer conquests, a notch in the Fling headboard. He hadn’t considered the possibility that Jensen saw this as a commercial transaction, just because Jared was… well, it’s pretty clear what Jared was. 

“No.” It came out with that soft, almost-question tone all of Jared’s responses seemed to have. “No, I can’t,” he said more firmly, looking Jensen straight in the eye. “I don’t think I can be that for you.”

~~~~~

He walked slowly back through the remnants of packing, looking one last time around the villa. Ms. Ferris stopped him at the front door. Her eyes were red-rimmed, as if she’d been up all night, or crying, or both. “Thank you for all that you’ve done this summer. I knew that you would be good for him. I told him so that first day here.”

Jared nodded slowly, dazed. He had no answer to that. The blood seemed to have drained from his head, as if his heart was no longer up to the task of circulation.

~~~~~

  


  
[ ](http://s37.photobucket.com/albums/e57/deirdre_c/unmakethebed/?action=view&current=later_that_fall.png)  


Jensen’s grandfather’s funeral was not televised, but his brother’s coronation was. Jared was back at school in Austin by that time, and he tracked down every AP article, every internet blog post, YouTube video, every gossip site picture or description or rumor he could find. There was Jensen, at his brother’s side, solemn-faced, unfamiliar and striking in his formal regalia, some kind of long-tunic and sash ensemble that Jared knew Jensen would make some wry crack about under his breath, if Jared were just there to overhear it.

The best part was the way Jensen was portrayed in the media coverage of Espian’s transition to a new head of state. People seemed to be noticing Jensen’s changing ways, referring to “newfound maturity in the face of tragic loss” and “unexpected knowledge and statesmanship.” Jared also read that Jensen had been appointed as a UN special envoy to Central Africa with a sense of pride that was completely unwarranted given his status in Jensen’s life. 

That’s when he got the first email. It was from Jensen himself. Jared clicked to open it.

The content was strangely formal: commonplace information about Jensen’s recent travels, polite inquiries about Jared’s health and activities, no reference to the past summer at all. Jared had no idea how to interpret it. Why would Jensen contact him? What did he want? It was a mystery, and Jared was sorely tempted to reply, but when he took a second to think about it, he realized that developing a new connection with Jensen would be a terrible mistake. 

He was honest enough with himself to know that he was still pointlessly, painfully in love, unhealed little fissures fracturing his heart. But he also knew that, if Jensen went back to his party lifestyle, there was no room for Jared in it. In fact, if Jensen was transforming himself from a frivolous playboy to a respectable member of high society and government, that made Jared even _more_ irrelevant. Jensen needed to move on, and so Jared would, too.

He didn’t know why Jensen had emailed. Maybe something about the abrupt end to their summer left Jensen feeling like it didn’t end on his terms. He’d get over it soon enough. Jared was just saving them both the trouble by stopping this… this thing they’d had between them, before it got into the tabloids, where they’d twist it into something sordid, turn it into an embarrassing mess. Jared would get closer to fine, would get over it, and Jensen would be better off. Now that he was Crown Prince, secure in his place, he could go back to his Flings, or maybe find someone more permanent. And if the thought of that wrung Jared’s heart like a dishrag? Well, he had been stupid not to keep to his place, that was the bottom line. He’d feared it from that first morning in Jensen’s villa, but instead he’d thrown himself at Jensen and this is what he deserved. 

He deleted that first email and each subsequent one that arrived and threw himself into his full engineering class load plus two part-time jobs. He kept his grades high, lined up an internship for the following semester, and headed back to San Antonio as many weekends as he could to help out Aunt Jo and Megan. He tried to force himself to go at least an hour or two each day without thinking about Jensen.

Before he knew it, it was November, and although the other storms that had traveled through the region that year had passed Paradise Cay by, the last and worst, Hurricane Misha, struck the entire string of islands hard. 

A hurricane could make boats fly. It could rip trees from the ground, toss them in the air and snap them like twigs. A villa could have its four walls peeled away, its roof torn off. Of course, that was one reason Ms. Dinwiddie only opened the resort before storm season fully started, but it still left the property vulnerable when people weren’t there.

Gen included him on an email loop with a bunch of the other staff and they all fretted back and forth as they tracked the storm across the Weather Channel’s to-the-minute Doppler radar screens. The morning after the storm’s wake came and went, the larger population centers like Puerto Rico and the Bahamas were reporting widespread damage, but that afternoon an email arrived from Ms. Dinwiddie herself, assuring everyone that Paradiso was still standing. 

It felt strange to have that interlude with his island coworkers and friends during the school year, stranger still to turn around and go back to real life. He was almost tempted to reply to one of Jensen’s persistent emails, let him know the news of Paradise Cay’s survival, but he knew that was the slipperiest of slopes, and that Jensen might misinterpret contact from him.

A few weeks later, another message from Ms. Dinwiddie unexpectedly arrived in his inbox. She asked if he would be willing to come to the island over the school break, the week after Christmas, to help with the general cleanup. She was offering a ridiculous sum, and airfare of course, but it still took Jared more than a week and two follow-up emails to respond. It was hard to think of going back. But in the end, he couldn’t leave that kind of money—almost more than he’d make in an entire semester at Home Depot—lying on the table.

So Jared spent Christmas in San Antonio with his family and as much as it was a joy and a respite to be there with them, the ticket to Miami and from there to the airport on Providenciales was burning a hole in his pocket. Honestly, he hadn’t even decided whether he really wouldn’t back out right up until the night before the scheduled date, when he lay in bed, looking up at the dark ceiling.

~~~~~

  


  
[ ](http://s37.photobucket.com/albums/e57/deirdre_c/unmakethebed/?action=view&current=Dec_27.png)  


When the taxi from the airport dropped Jared off at the resort’s private marina, it surprised him to see some local guy at the helm of Paradiso’s speedboat. He couldn’t imagine Tom letting anyone else drive the thing if he were around, and it made Jared wonder who else Ms. Dinwiddie had hired for this cleanup week. He tossed his duffel down onto the nearest seat and hopped in.

It turned out the driver was no more talkative than Jared was, so they made the half-hour trip in silence, Jared sitting forward in the bow, just chilly enough on the open ocean to be glad of his waterproof windbreaker. The sun was high in the sky and sparked off the tips of the choppy waves, dazzling his eyes like a string of flashbulbs. He didn’t bother fishing sunglasses out of his duffle, simply lifted a hand to shield his eyes, watching the horizon for the familiar shape of the island’s hills to rise from the sea. 

As they pulled up to the landing dock, everything was shuttered and still, but the buildings seemed whole, no trees down or holes in the roofs. Actually, Jared couldn’t pick out _any_ particular storm damage in evidence, and he wondered again what kinds of jobs Ms. Dinwiddie could have this week that she’d need to bring the summer staff all the way out here for, rather than simply hiring local labor.

He was still turning that mystery around in his mind as he clambered out, grabbed his things, and started up the dock. He was distracted enough that it took him several long seconds to recognize the figure walking toward him from under the low eaves of the Reception Center.

It was Jensen. Alone. No bodyguards, no assistants.

Jared looked around, confused, eyes darting immediately back to Jensen, in case he’d disappeared between one blink and the next. It was him, clearly; Jared wasn’t imagining things. With his mind a swirling mess, he went with the first question that popped up to the top. “Where’s Ms. Dinwiddie?” 

Jensen stopped a few yards away— _too far_ , Jared’s heart insisted—biting his lip distractingly. “She, uh. She’s not exactly here.”

“What do you mean, ‘not exactly?’”

“Well, you weren’t answering my emails and I figured maybe if we got together we could talk about, um, things. And then Traci gave me permission to visit the resort this week and…” He trailed off.

Jared had to close his mouth when he noticed it was gaping open. “The instructions to come here, the plane ticket? They weren’t from her at all? You mean you _tricked_ me into coming here?”

“I was imagining it as more of a romantic gesture,” Jensen said.

Jared’s pulse started to rabbit. How could he have been so easily fooled? What did Jensen mean ‘romantic?’ Were they here all alone? What was he supposed to do? He wanted to throw himself into Jensen’s arms and at the same time punch him in the face. One thing he was certain of: this was a sure path to another six months—or more—of misery and heartache for him, disaster for Jensen’s reputation. Shock and uncertainty made him lash out, “You don’t—you lied to get me to meet you here. You don’t get to _do_ that!”

“I know, I’m sorry. But I figured it was better than showing up unannounced on your doorstep, barging in trailed by my media circus, imposing myself on you at school,” he said. “At least here we’re in neutral territory.” 

Jared snorted derisively. “How is this neutral? I’m a Paradiso employee, you’re a paying customer. It’s the very definition of power imbalance.”

“You’re not working now.”

“But you’re still paying. Jesus, Jensen, you’ve rented out the entire island!”

Jensen threw up his hands. “So where then?” Jensen demanded. “Where is the place we’re equals? Where is the place that you don’t automatically decide I’m too good for you? That you’re somehow beneath me? And where’s the place where you believe I’ve changed? That I’m not the spoiled brat I was before? Tell me where we can be together, and I’ll take us there so fast it will make your head spin.”

Jared shook his head, tightening his grip on his bag’s strap. “Yeah. No. This is insane. I have the plane ticket back to Miami and I’ll pay to change it to go on tomorrow’s flight out.”

“Jared, just give me a chance.”

“I—” The temptation was so strong, the reality of Jensen right here in front of him. “I’m going to head down to the boat, see if that guy who’s not Tom can run me back. It was a bad idea to come here. To bring me here.” Jared stared at Jensen for a long minute, soaking in the sight of him, then turned and walked away. 

The footsteps that followed Jared up the pier didn’t surprise him, but he wished to hell Jensen would let him leave. When Jensen grabbed Jared’s shoulder, Jared swung around. 

“You should let me go.” Even as he said it, Jared curled his fingers tight in Jensen’s shirt, the cotton stretched and twined in his grip. It was as if, once Jensen got this close, Jared couldn’t keep himself from touching. Jensen looked down, then back up at Jared like he had completely lost his mind, which might actually have been the case. 

“Why?” Jensen’s voice was quiet. He sounded confused and hurt, not angry, and that tore Jared up more than anything. Jensen covered the hand that was wrapped in his shirt and squeezed. 

“This can’t possibly work,” Jared choked. “You know that. That’s why you have the Summer Fling rule in the first place. You’re one of the most famous people on the planet. You’re just starting to rebuild your reputation, create a new life, one where you can do great things. And I’m your help, your _servant_. My brother is in jail. My teenage sister has a baby. We live in a _trailer_ , for god’s sake, and you live in a palace. This can never be a relationship. In fact, the whole thing this summer was probably a mistake to begin with.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Why not, when it’s true? I’m not sure those days, as… as amazing as they were, were worth the pain now.”

“You’re in pain?” Jensen pressed.

Jared just looked at him, thought about the nights he’d lain awake over the past few months, his chest aching.

“Fine. Leave,” Jensen said. Then he raised his chin, eyes flashing, looking every inch a prince. “But… answer your one question before you go.”

The familiar words, reminder of all they’d shared, sliced through Jared like a scythe.

“What do _you_ want, Jared?” he asked. “Give me one good reason you’re walking away right now that isn’t about _me_.”

Jared closed his eyes because he couldn’t do this while he was looking at Jensen. “I want you,” he said finally. “It’s always been you.” His throat worked hard over the lump lodged in it, and he swallowed through it. “But I also have to be realistic. I can’t be what you need. I’m not a part of the world you live in,” Jared insisted. “You and me are—”

“We’re what I want, too.” Jensen’s voice cut in, sharp and serious. 

Jared matched it. “We don’t always get what we want.”

“I know that. Don’t you think I know that? But I also know you don’t have to give up without trying.” And Jared wanted to stand firm, wanted to tell Jensen that he’s trying to save them both from folly and ridicule and the moment when Jensen has to let him down easily, but Jensen was pulling him closer, cupping the back of Jared’s neck, the sides of his face, and Jared was slowly losing his control. “God, Jared, you don’t even know—”

“I don’t want you to be stuck with me, Jensen. I don’t want you to feel obligated or trapped in this or—”

Jensen squeezed his shoulders so hard he was forced to look up. “You. You think I’m doing all this because I feel obligated? You think I’ve ever done this for anyone before?”

Jared blinked. He didn’t understand; he was not the exception to Jensen’s rules. It made no logical sense. But sense was dragged out to sea when Jensen stretched up, grabbing the sides of Jared’s face and pulling him down so Jensen could kiss his mouth, firm, reassuring. 

This was not an answer. Kissing would not make any obstacles disappear. But he felt Jensen’s lips move velvet-plush under his, and Jared couldn’t help it. He closed his eyes and kissed back.

“Everything you’re saying,” Jensen said, interspersed with nips and licks at Jared’s mouth, “don’t you think I told myself those things? How hard this would be for you, being with me? The press, the attention? But every argument crumbled under the weight of how much I want you, want to be with you. I tried to leave you alone, I did, tried to move on. It’s always been so easy to walk away, all those other guys. But not with you, not this time.”

“I don’t get it.” But even as Jared said it he stepped in closer, lined their bodies up, muscle pressed against muscle. “I’m some nobody, a college kid from Texas. You’re… not. I’ve never been farther from home than I am right now, you travel the whole world. You say you want to be together now, but in a couple months, a couple weeks—”

“No.” Jensen’s voice dipped low, his hands smoothed slowly down Jared’s chest, came to rest at waist of his jeans. Jared’s throat felt tight and raw, Jensen’s hands moving on him slow enough to feel every touch, every press of fingers and palm. “I don’t know how else to convince you. I’ve never wanted to try before, but I want us to try.” He looked up and Jared’s heart stuttered at the emotion in Jensen’s eyes. “Can’t we at least try?”

And Jared had to ask himself, who was he trying to protect, himself or Jensen? Who did he, deep down, really doubt, himself or Jensen? It wasn’t fair. If Jensen was willing to take the risk, willing to put himself on the line like this, Jared needed to man up and meet him halfway.

“Are you sure this is what you want? You’re really sure?” Jared asked one more time, and watched Jensen’s face break into a smile as he sensed Jared’s resolve start to crack. 

“I asked you that exact same thing once, and you said yes. Besides, I would have told you that months ago, if you’d just answered my emails.” Jensen leaned in and buried his face in the crook of Jared’s shoulder. “Listen,” he murmured into Jared’s shirt. “Maybe we won’t make it. You’re young and I’m a jackass, we haven’t known each other but for a few weeks. There’s a lot that could change. But as someone who has known too many other men, I have to tell you—” Jensen voice dropped even lower. “—I don’t think I’m ever going to want someone else as much as I want to be with you.”

Jensen’s grip tightened on Jared’s waist, as if he thought Jared was going to run away at that bold declaration, but the thing was, Jared wouldn’t. 

He had been fooling himself thinking he ever could. 

Their mouths met again. Jensen kissed him hard this time, possessively, reaching up with both hands to cup Jared’s face and hold him still for it, and all Jared could do was moan into the kiss, opening wider. Jared welcomed Jensen’s tongue, running along the edge of his teeth and exploring his mouth, rubbing against Jared’s and fucking into his mouth.

Jared pulled back. “It’s because I’m so great in bed, isn’t it?” he teased. But at the words, Jensen’s eyes went hot. 

“Speaking of which,” he said, pulling at Jared’s waistband so that their hips pressed together, “now that we have the serious stuff settled, and you’ve decided to be reasonable, I think this calls for a celebration.” He stepped back, stooped down to grab Jared’s bag off the ground where he’d dropped it, and took Jared by the other hand, leading him back up the dock and turned them toward the paths leading to the villas.

“Are they open?” Jared asked, stumbling a little as he tried to keep up.

“Unlocked the place myself with the key Traci left me,” Jensen replied.

“Alex and Stark?” 

“Convinced them to stay back on Providenciales and let me come over to Paradise Cay alone. Since the only people here would be you and me, they agreed.”

Jared thought about how they were the only ones on the island, but that perhaps someday they’d be walking like this, hand-in-hand, out in public, something he’d never done before. He squeezed Jensen’s fingers tighter in his. 

Jensen squeezed back and smiled, as if he knew what Jared was thinking. “I like holding your hand.”

Together they passed empty fountains and dormant breadfruit trees, the groundskeeping overgrown, only sporadically tended during the long months of the year the resort was closed. 

As they entered Shambhala, Jared automatically scanned the hallway and living room for cleanliness, items out of place. It had that slight stale smell of a place shut up empty too long. Jensen didn’t let him linger, leading him straight toward the bedroom. 

It was the same, mostly, as the last time Jared had seen it. Slightly more hollow-feeling, the dresser tops bare. In the middle of the room, he was amused to see that Jensen had apparently found a set of sheets and blankets and made the bed. Jensen looked up at him with pride.

“Good effort,” Jared said, grinning back, “but I can see you’re going to need a little instruction.”

Jensen grabbed Jared around the waist and tackled him into the bedding, climbing up his body to nibble at his ear and whisper, “I’m at your service.”

  
[ ](http://s37.photobucket.com/albums/e57/deirdre_c/unmakethebed/?action=view&current=the_end.png)  


**Author's Note:**

>  **Notes/Acknowledgements:**  
>  I have to take some time up front to praise and thank the magnificent untitleddemo. It is not an overstatement to say that this fic would not exist without her encouragement and advice and copious, above-and-beyond-the-call-of-duty feedback. She held my hand every step of the way on this story, she cheered for me and she kicked my ass farther down the road when necessary. (Sometimes I suspected that she knows these characters better than I do.) I am in awe of her generosity. Thank you, J. 
> 
> Also, heartfelt thanks to my dear neros_violin for also giving beta notes twice (and my apologies for subjecting you to the original nightmarish first draft!). And to __tiana__ for a last second once-over.
> 
> maichan has more talent in her pinkie finger than any random five people put together. Her multi-media art (websites!!) for this project is simply a wonder. 
> 
> Finally, thanks to everyone in lazy_daze’s email loop—you all made the ~~torture~~ process of writing so much fun—and to wendy and thehighwaywoman for all their hard work in running this fantastic challenge.
> 
> ~~~~~~
> 
> And here’s something that might make you laugh… this story was originally conceived as part of the Livejournal spn_meanttobe Harlequin romance challenge, based on this prompt:
>
>>   
> **_The Prince's Chambermaid_**.  
>  Cathy is used to making the beds—not slipping between their sheets! Arrogant Prince Xaviero has one rule: once he's taught Cathy everything he knows, their affair will be over. But when the King of Zaffirinthos is taken ill, Xaviero is forced to take up his role as prince regent. The voluptuous curves of meek Cathy still haunt his dreams, and he vows to hold this humble maid to his special kind of prince's ransom!  
> 
> 
> I hope I did it justice!


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